


Sick of Losing Soulmates

by fruitsandpeachies



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora had anxiety and depression because her childhood was rough, Because she deserves better, But it will get super fluffy soon I promise, Catra has gone to therapy!! And didn't have a bad childhood, Childhood Friends, College Professors AU, F/F, Lots of Childhood Flashbacks, Mostly Adora's POV, Pining and Longing, TBH the first few chapters are a little angsty, This is also a super slow burn, Trauma swap? Idk, Will they smooch? Absolutely, catradora, child abuse tw, musician au, no beta we die like men, reconnecting, some Catra's POV though, suicide TW, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitsandpeachies/pseuds/fruitsandpeachies
Summary: Ten years passed since Adora and Catra had last seen each other, a happy childhood spent together cut short by a horrible tragedy in Adora's life.Back in their original home town, she finds herself a music professor at a prestigious college where memories haunt her every move. Guilt from what happened takes her to the orchestra, where she finds a familiar face and a rush of emotions from when they were young.Adora has no choice but to come to terms with what happened in order to move on. At the same time, Catra has no choice but to face the feelings she'd let go when Adora abandoned her all those years ago.Together, they rebuild what had been torn down, brick by brick. Finding new trust means to forgive. Making new memories means accepting the old ones.The only thing they knew for sure was that they weren't going to let go again.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 86
Kudos: 177





	1. Open Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! For those who are here from my previous fics, thank you so much for being here for this one. For those who just stumbled upon this and decided to give it a shot, THANK YOU.  
> This is my first AU so I hope it lives up to whatever standards yall have. There is no set schedule for updating, so take the chapters with stride. As always, please leave a comment if you enjoy it!

“I’m sure you all are dying to go home and get a nap in before your next class, but please remember your essays are due at midnight tonight.” Adora had a horrible crick in her neck, so she had to stifle a groan leaning down to grab her briefcase. “And no trying to take the easy songs, it _will_ reflect on your grade.”

The minute hand on her lecture-hall clock hit 9:20 and the students all stood. The usual post-class murmur began drifting in with ruffling papers and closing laptops. Talking about homework, the current sports season, nothing interesting to Adora at all.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t want to build a relationship with these students, but she had felt a particular quietness inside of her over the last few weeks. It was a dark grey inside of her. Nothing she hadn’t felt before, but still.

She hadn’t slept. Not well.

Adora was grateful her Tuesdays ended early. She zipped her computer and pencase neatly into the briefcase before lugging herself out of the back of the room. _If I have to read one more crappy analysis on The Hungarian Rhapsody again, I’m going to lose my mind._

She took a second to redo her ponytail in the car before starting it and pulling from the employee parking lot of Eternia University for the Arts and Sciences.

_Lines of trees. Student walkways. A fountain._

Being a music professor was what she always really wanted. Like any job, it was slightly less glamourous than dreamed, but it had become comfortable. Up until recently, Adora had been teaching in a town several hours away. After some spur-of-the moment decision, a job offer came that she couldn’t resist.

No one would turn down a job to work there.

Driving through the expansive campus was a reminder of how grateful she was. Anyone who appreciated music or the arts wanted to experience what was behind these walls. Even if the average person couldn’t always get a taste, there was a way to share with the world what they did.

The crown jewel of campus: Eternia Theatre, rising from the ground like a cobblestone giant. Towering windows. Pillars of marble that shined brighter than the sun. The shape of the theatre back end, curving like a pair of motherly arms to plunge into the earth on either side of the walls.

No one would know the meaning of music unless they were sitting inside that theatre, tasting the orchestra notes as they dripped from the velvet curtains.

Adora drove past, continuing on her way home. The sky…grey. Quiet.

_It’s another box-noodle lunch._ How long had she been moved into her new house—two weeks? Three? Maybe more. And Adora still hadn’t opened her fridge to care about what kind of groceries to buy. She had stuff on her shelf, but the motivation to put in any effort just wasn’t there.

The job offer to teach at EUAS was astounding. It should’ve been everything Adora had ever wanted in being a professor. So why, when the offer came to her voicemail in a late June afternoon, did the grey feeling begin taking shape? She should’ve been _so happy_.

Adora got home and put a saucepan of water on her stove, and then she went to collapse onto the couch. Man, her neck was stiff. How much did she sleep that night?

Now her mind was just wandering.

Without even realizing, she fell asleep.

Ringing woke her up later. Adora’s cell phone called out to her from the floor, where her bag sat. _Sleeping._ She pressed the couch cushion to her eyes and waited another few seconds before swiping it up.

“Hm?” Her voice was croaky.

_“Adora!”_ _So peppy._

“What?” With difficulty, she pulled herself upright and steadied the phone better. “Glimmer, sorry. I was napping. What’s up?”

The other end of the phone was her best friend, Glimmer, who called her almost every day since moving last month. It wasn’t as though they were across the world from one another, but living adult lives makes it difficult to make the five-hour drive to see one another.

They settled for calling.

_“I was just checking in on you.”_ The tone she used made it clear that she had something specific on her mind. “ _How are you doing?”_

After-nap Adora didn’t enjoy being quizzed. “Fine. I’m just— Oh damn it, I forgot my water—” She groggily jogged around the couch to head back to the kitchen, where she’d put on a pot of water for food.

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, it must be all boiled up—

But it wasn’t on? She forgot to turn it on?

_“Did you ditch me?”_ Glimmer asked from the phone, after which Adora sighed and held it up again.

_Good thing I don’t have much of an appetite._ “Sorry. I thought I—Never mind, it’s not important.”

Adora’s mind was still hazy from the nap. What time was it? The sky was grey; this season held storms up its sleeve, so it was hard to tell exactly how long her nap was. Why hadn’t she hung her clock up yet?

_“…Adora.”_ The voice on the other end of the phone almost sounded stern.

“Hm?”

“ _How are you_ really _doing? I mean…”_ Glimmer paused, and there was some sort of rustling before she sighed into the receiver. “ _It_ is _the anniversary, but you don’t need me telling you that. Are you sure you’re okay?”_

_The anniversary._

Yeah, Adora didn’t need to be reminded. It happened every year, just like a holiday. Each year it hurt less, despite…everything. There would always be bits and pieces that didn’t get better, and even more bits she didn’t know how to feel about.

“Thanks for checking in on me,” Adora reached over to the stove and turned it on to heat up the neglected pot of water, “but I’m okay. Still overwhelmed with boxes I need to unpack, but I don’t have to worry about that immediately.”

“ _You still haven’t unpacked all the way?”_

She glanced behind her, where taped-up moving boxes sat on the kitchen floor, table and in the hallway. They were all untouched except for one, which she’d dug cooking utensils out.

So much to do and so little willpower to get her new life into gear. The return to her hometown had restarted that old guilt deep in her gut, but just like the boxes—she didn’t have the willpower to unpack it right then.

“I’ll be fine, Glimmer, but I appreciate you checking in on me. How’s Bow?”

They chatted on the phone for a while, Adora pacing around her kitchen as the water boiled. Glimmer filled her in one what happened since the last time they spoke (which had been two days ago). Bow was enjoying his latest workload, Glimmer’s plant died, and a raccoon had babies in their attic.

Even though Adora missed them, she would have the time to visit after she gets more used to her new schedule. This move had to be the right thing to do.

Eventually, there was a very faint sound of separate voices from the other end of the phone.

_“Oh no, Bow and Sea Hawk are back. I should go,”_ Glimmer said. “ _You’ll call me if you need anything_?”

“Sure. Thanks. Tell them I said hi for me.” Adora hung up, putting her phone down on the countertop and finished preparing lunch. Her phone said it was only 1:30, so she could count it as lunch.:

The food was unimpressive, but she was grateful to have her table and chairs set up to sit on and stare out the window.

What a move this had been. She hadn’t lived back here in the city since she was fourteen, and much of that bit of her childhood was bad. Some of it wasn’t—mostly the best friend she had who lived across the woods from her.

She had spent more time over at the other girl’s house than she did her own. There was true love and happiness inside of those walls.

Adora stared out of the kitchen window at the sky and at the house next door to hers. No neighbors had come to greet her when she had moved in, something which she was grateful for. The nearest house’s curtains were closed.

Probably for the best. Adora wasn’t an entirely pleasant person to be around lately.

She finished up and let her mind wander more while washing the dishes. Maybe it was just being back here that was putting her in such a sour mood. What had happened so long ago…she had gotten past that.

_Maybe I should check to see if any of the students had submitted their essays yet,_ she wondered to herself. Probably a few, at least. Grading can come later.

Her new house had plenty space, but the moving boxes took up way too much room. _Maybe I should try to tackle some of these?_ This could also come later.

She made her way into the master bedroom, which had a nice view of the backyard. The grass was in need of a good mowing, but it wasn’t the view she was immediately after. Instead, one of these boxes was in mind.

_God, how many boxes do I have in this room?_ There were so many, and they were all labeled “master bed,” so what she was looking for had to be in there somewhere…

A box of shelf trinkets, a box of shoes, a box of framed photos… And there it was.

Unassuming on the outside: a wooden board game container, the lid which slid out of grooves easily. Adora sat on the edge of her bed to look into it. Her hands shook a little as the items inside shifted. The lid only really came off once in a blue moon.

_Like a horrible sort of holiday,_ Adora repeated to herself. Her stomach churned.

In all honestly, the contents of the box weren’t really special. There were a few staged family photos when she was much smaller. A cheap souvenir from the zoo a few states away. A CD with Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 she burned after going to her first concert with her best friend. A ring that had been won from a carnival game.

Looking at the family pictures, Adora felt a bit of a gap in her heart where the sorrow should have been. Her mom was much taller than average, with short grey hair and lips that had never felt a real smile. Standing side-by-side, her and Adora looked like polar opposites. The only thing they really had in common was the blue of their eyes.

Adora had always been the “perfect child”, at least she tried to be. Good grades, perfect behavior, doing everything that her mother told her to. No one could tell from the pictures that the huge house she had grown up in was a prison. The fear of going home at the end of the school day was something she wouldn’t forget, even after over ten years.

When she was old enough to be able to run through the length of woods it took to get to Catra’s house, she did. Every single day. After school, the weekends. Her mom hardly cared that she was gone; she had better things to do.

Even the summers, she spent nearly every waking minute running around with her best friend. Until—

Adora’s hands jerked, almost spilling the box. _Careful_. She had to take a few deep breaths before pulling the plastic ring out and slipping it onto her pinky finger.

_Catra…_ She wondered where she was now, if she was happy. If she ever thought about Adora. Hopefully not, with how everything happened, but still. Somewhere, somehow, she hoped that she’d found something good in life.

In the meantime, Adora had a lot of work to do unpacking.

The next few hours, she’d managed to force herself to open boxes and put things away. There was so much stuff she never even remembered packing. _Since when did she own a piggy bank?_ So much junk. After a while it really was just that—junk.

“I’m going to rot inside all day,” she told herself aloud, pacing through the living room with a piece of half-eaten fruit in her hand. This made her sigh. _Rot and go_ crazy _, apparently._

Her phone buzzed, and Adora put the apple aside to check. It was just her realtor, reminding of the showing they’re doing Friday at her old childhood home. It was hers, so she couldn’t feel too bad selling it. She didn’t want to live there, so there were worse things to feel guilty about.

Scrolling down her email—There was an orchestra tonight. One of the last nights they were playing for the season.

Adora tasted metal on her tongue, but it was accompanied by an unusual pull she didn’t always feel during her grey times. Maybe going would make her feel better? _Or am I putting off grading essays?_ She wondered.

It might do her some good. As awful as her mother was, Adora’s best times with her were filled with music. And the times Catra and Adora would take naps in their treehouse to the sounds of stringed instruments…

Adora ended up trading her wrinkled blazer for a blouse and stopped herself in front of the bathroom mirror before leaving. Did she always look this tired, or was it the grey inside?

It was sad to say that she recognized the downward pull of her cheekbones. Ponytail not as sleek as usual but still fine to wear out. A scar across her left jaw from when she was younger.

There was something missing in this mirror view, but she didn’t know what.

The orchestra didn’t start until 6pm. Even though Adora took her time getting read and putting on an intact pair of nylons, she still arrived at the theatre and hour early. Glimmer would’ve laughed at her need for punctuality, but this was ridiculous.

_Guess I’m waiting._

While sitting in the car, Adora pulled up the house listing on her phone and scrolled through pictures. There were dozens. A 360-view of what Adora wished would just burn down in some catastrophic event. Kids at elementary school would tease her for being the rich, snobby kid who was loved by teacher and always had the best toys.

The only kid who hadn’t cared about that was Catra. The only kid who kept in contact with her after Adora’s mom forced her to go to private middle school.

Scrolling through the pictures… The entrance to the huge sweeping driveway was where Catra would wait for her to get home. She would dump her bag on the inside of the gate and run through the woods to Catra’s more modest property a mile away.

This house she was looking at didn’t feel like hers.

Maybe she should’ve felt grief, but there was none. Only longing. For what exactly, she didn’t know. Something she never had.

When the parking lot gradually became busier, Adora finally put her phone away and stepped out. The air was moist outside, warm and humming with electricity. Clouds still hung low but threatened a rainstorm. This was alright; she loved the ambiance of rain and music together.

Those nights in the treehouse wouldn’t leave her mind.

Adora had become good at forgetting. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, or maybe she was beginning to heal. Regardless, there was a gaping hole in her heart as well as her mind. This wasn’t necessarily anything new, but paired with all the life changes recently… It hurt.

Of course Glimmer was worried about her. She had every right to be, but that didn’t change much of anything.

The stewing nearly made Adora sick; she waited impatiently in the amphitheater seat trying not to get a headache. The scratchy fabric beneath her made her feel small again, going to concerts with her mom. Not all the memories were bad, she decided. Most, but not all.

Eventually, the lights began dimming. Goosebumps prickles on Adora’s skin. Because this was a weekday theater, there were significantly less people attending than there would be on a Saturday or Sunday. The rows on either side were empty. In front of her, too, only a few heads were visible.

And the stage, impossibly tall, heavy curtains pulling backwards to reveal all the musicians dressed in white, stair-stepped upwards. That first note. The lighting created a halo all around them, making their backs glow, faces to a shadowy center where the conductor stood. It was an impressive lighting display. It made her regret not going on opening night—however, it was a good reminder of what she loved about the orchestra.

There were a few seconds of peace. Before the conductor raised their baton, each musician posed motionless. Silent, under the lights and curtains. This snapshot of stillness was where Adora wanted to live. No one dared to even blink; it was like the whole world got to hold its breath. It was honestly the closest thing to heaven than Adora would ever believe in.

When the music finally started, she was grateful to be alone. It let her hands clench into fists on her lap.

_This isn’t fair,_ she couldn’t stop the feelings inside of her. Violins filled her throat. _I should be grateful. So why do I feel like this?_

The beginning of this arrangement was heavy on woodwinds. They weren’t Adora’s favorite, but the composition was enough to tuck a blanket around her aching heart.

_Could it be the fear of leaving the known behind? Or the fear of returning here?_ Glimmer and Bow say the anxiety will get better. They’re so supportive, but that doesn’t make anything any easier.

Music kept playing.

_Decrescendos of the bells in the back, flutes trilling. Piano._

It rose around Adora, rumbling from every corner, swelling like an oncoming tidal wave. The conductor’s movements were a violent dance, leading each note higher and louder. Higher than the tips of the violin bows, higher than the curtains, ropes, ceiling—

_Bass hummed straight through every floorboard of the theater._

Adora allowed herself to be consumed by it.

Maybe it was a good thing there were so few people in the theater. For a moment, she existed only then and there.

Just for a moment.

The music tempered downwards, sweet and sorrowful. Lights of the stage brightened more than before, illuminating faces, hands. And the shadow in the middle of the halo began taking shape. What kind of feeling could Adora compare this to?

As the other instruments became softer and quieter, a new sound rose up to the forefront of their symphony. This was easily recognized as a cello, the solo of today’s performance. Each beginning note started slow, very deep and rich like a bitter-steeped tea.

_Breathing in, breathing out._ The notes matched Adora’s heartbeat.

_Breathing in._ Vibrato trembled the ground, causing her eyes to nearly flutter closed. _Breathing out._

The center became an outline of a woman with a cello cradled to her chest. For a moment that’s all it was: a silhouette. Then it was light glowing off of dark curled hair. Slim shoulders and arms, dragging the cello bow sideways like a knife across a throat.

_The way she moved_.

Adora allowed her eyes to linger, and although the view wasn’t crystal clear, she saw…tattoos? Or maybe it was lace from her dress? She was not completely matching white like the other members of her group, but instead had dark red fabric draped over her chest and cinched at the waist.

Maybe the dress was designed just for this performance, because with every flick of the woman’s wrist, the sleeves of the dress swayed and shimmered, but never got in the way.

Adora’s eyes lingered more, drinking it all in. _She was beautiful, even from a distance_. How come we’d never seen her play here before?

The stage lights hit full display, and she could finally see the woman’s face. Sharp nose, sharp jaw, sharp eyebrows—but eyes closed like she was sleeping. This face—

Something inside Adora stopped.

Not like a skip of a heartbeat but like a gunshot to the chest.

A crash.

The tidal wave broke.

Adora stood, tripping over the arm of the seat next to her to get away. _Run away_. The way that her legs shook made it painful to leave the auditorium, but she couldn’t leave fast enough. _Running away, running away. Why am I running? It couldn’t have been—_

Adora stopped outside in the lobby, back against a far wall and trying not to have a full-on panic attack. The tips of her fingers and toes felt like they were asleep or bubbling, and her brain— _her brain, her brain._ Stuck, like a broken record.

That face, the way she moved, _that face, that face—_

“Professor Hope?”

She had to force herself to look forwards at the person speaking her name.

A student. “You look like you’re sick, do you need anything?” they asked.

“Oh. You can call me Adora.” Adora was panting, but not from exertion. _Focusing, focus. Her brain—_ “I’m okay, thank you for asking. Are you hear for—” _that face“_ —the orchestra?” She was a professor, she reminded herself. Keep it together.

The student didn’t look completely convinced, but they motioned to a laptop tucked under an elbow. “My essay. I’m doing it on this season’s composition.”

Oh? The teacher in Adora took over for a split second, and she stopped panicking to be impressed. Her back straightened a little. “You’re not doing it on a known composer?”

As easy an emotion guilt was to her, Adora felt it once more for not working her position to the fullest. As a music professor at the university, she should be well verse in what goes on around them. That Tuesday should not have been the first time she’d seen (or even heard) this orchestra.

This student was one of her younger ones, too, maybe 19. She felt the need to be honest.

“I haven’t actually heard much about this orchestra,” Adora admitted, trying to shove the remnants of the panic attack down her throat. “The cellist, that woman—”

“She’s good, isn’t she?” The student pulled a flyer from their sweatshirt pocket and held it up. “She’s an alumni from here, but that’s all I know. It’s kind of cool to see what people go on to do afterwards, isn’t it?”

_The cellist is from here…_ It was difficult, impossible even, to deny the possibility. They hadn’t seen one another since they parted since they were freshmen in high school, but that face…

Adora’s insides were all squirmy with guilt and anxiety. “Do you know her name?”

“Ah…” The student opened the crumpled flyer and started scanning through. “It’s here somewhere.”

“That’s okay. I’m going to go back and finish the performance.” _Too soon, I don’t need to know. Maybe I’m going crazy._ “I’m expecting an impressive essay from you.”

“Of course, thanks professor.” The student jammed their flyer back into their pocket and gave a wave. “See you in class on Thursday then!”

Adora waved back. Turned again towards the auditorium doors. _I’m just being dumb_ , she had to tell herself. _It’s not her._

She went back into the auditorium, immediately being surrounded again by sounds of the orchestra. That girl still held her spot in the center, the soloist of today’s accompaniment. The way she moved her hands with her eyes shut tight… Mesmerizing.

_Even if it_ was _her, she wouldn’t want to see me. It wouldn’t matter._

It probably wasn’t her. Adora was just especially on edge from everything going on.

When the program was over, she waited for everyone else to leave before heading out herself. The lobby, which was usually packed after a concert, was mostly quiet. The student she was talking to earlier was in the corner glued to their laptop, assumedly finishing the essay due that night.

_The essays._ Adora had nearly forgot for a moment. She needed to head home and get a jump start on those. The music was nice, even if it didn’t do much to settle her intrusive thoughts, but her real life existed. _Maybe I’ll call Glimmer and Bow tonight._ She was just leaving, as a group of familiar faces lingered near the entrance.

It was some of fellow professors from the college, though she didn’t know all their names yet.

“…taking over for him,” one of them was talking about as Adora passed. “It’s a good thing she applied when she did.”

_God, now I have to eavesdrop._ Adora’s sickening curiosity for the situation got the best of her. She lingered as well.

“But if it’s her first teaching job at a college, she has a lot to live up to,” another person tutted. “Even if she’s a talented musician.”

“Fairly young, too.”

Adora had to leave. She couldn’t bear to hear what would come next. What if they said a name? What if her suspicions were confirmed? And what they were talking about, a new professor being hired? She knew that one of the older, more respected professors had a family emergency and is leaving only a few weeks into the semester.

Was this ghost from Adora’s past going to come back just to haunt her?

_Nope, no._ She can’t entertain this. She left, practically storming out of the theatre, getting into her car, and driving a little too recklessly home.

There might’ve been a dozen times that night when Adora had clicked on Glimmer’s name in her phone but put it down before hitting “call.” Neither her nor Bow needed to hear Adora blubbering to them at eight at night. What’s there to blubber about?

_Calm down._

Adora forced herself to focus on grading papers late into the night. Her mind was elsewhere, so it took longer than it should have. All she could think about was the feeling of the cello inside of her ribcage and the movements of that woman.

When she went to bed that night, Adora dug out Bach’s Cello Suit No. 1 from the box under the bed and popped it into her old CD stereo.

It took three plays of that to make her eyes heavy, but even after she turned it off, sounds of cello still drifted around. Somewhere, somebody had their bow on a string and was playing for the stars.

Adora fell asleep brokenhearted.

All the next day, Adora was distracted. She led her classes through the usual curriculum and answered questions as she would, but her mind was in a million other places. Anxiety didn’t treat her very well sometimes. It felt as though her mind was constantly trying to hurdle herself into the past, reliving the year when she was fourteen. The good parts, and the not-so-good parts.

And Catra…

She didn’t want to feel so small again, but she could smell the flowers in the flowerbed, hear the sounds of the bugs as her and her best friend ran around with bare feet. Catra would charge on all fours up her plastic slide and jump off the other end. This was why her knees were always scuffed and band-aids covering her arms.

She was a girl who was never afraid of anything. Not the height of their playground, not the neighbor’s vicious dog, not even telling Adora’s mom that she was being unfair to them.

Adora winced at that one. Even if it was true, it made things worse. She never told Catra that, though.

They had such big plans together for the future. None of _this_ was in their plans.

Being a professor of a prestigious school meant Adora’s brain had to be 100% all the time. This was the way she worked most of her life, going over-the-top to impress her relentless mother, be the best in her class and every extracurricular. But the higher she rose, the harder the fall, and the stress was consuming. So many things rattled inside of her mind like plastic marbles.

She had to call Glimmer between classes.

“ _Adora,”_ Glimmer picked up after the fifth ring. “ _I can’t really talk right now, I’m with a client. Are you good?”_

“Yeah, I’m good.” She had dropped her croissant on the grass a few minutes earlier and nearly had a mental breakdown. “Just checking up on you.”

“ _You’re too sweet. Call us tonight?”_

“Sure. Bye.” Adora hung up. She was fine. This was fine. Her next class was a lecture in a few hours, so she had time to go to the library and get some of her work done beforehand. _Focus, Adora._ She wanted to go back to the orchestra. She wanted to see that cellist again. But not tonight. Her lecture wouldn’t be over until halfway through tonight’s performance.

It was the last night the orchestra was playing, too. For the whole season. Would it be worth it to go back?

The library was nearly bustling. Most of the students milling around looked to be freshman that still had life in their eyes. Some chatted, others were curled up in corners with highlighters and notebooks. Only a few noticed Adora, and just one of them waved.

She found her usual comfortable spot on the third floor. Not many people frequented the autobiography section, so she had it to herself most of the times. The corner of this spot overlooked the stretch of cherry blossom trees that had become a cover page for the university.

They were not in bloom during this time, but they brought back fond memories of her childhood with Catra. Wandering around parks during springtime, scooping up as many fallen leaves as they could do mash into pulp to make “potions.”

The pink reminded Adora of the color Catra’s cheeks turned when laughing. She’d like to hold onto this.

The lecture was history of western music. This type of credit was required for most majors, so the class was as full as it could get. Adora pulled up her slideshow and began the 3-hour presentation.

_Blah blah blah,_ polyphony, _blah blah blah,_ organum development, _blah blah._

Her thumb almost grew tired of clicking the laser pointer.

_Blah blah,_ save your questions for the end of class.

By the time the lecture was over, Adora’s mouth was dry and she had a headache. People filed out, leaving her leaning for a minute on the podium to close her eyes against fluorescent lighting.

_I have to see her again. If it really_ is _her._

All sorts of feelings boiled inside of Adora’s stomach. She hadn’t even eaten lunch since she dropped her croissant earlier, and it was already dinnertime. But she didn’t want to go home quite yet; the orchestra still had some time left before finishing.

The day really _had_ passed by disjointed, and that’s the way that the last half-hour of the orchestra performance felt. It was not as smooth as the night before, not because the music was any less extraordinary, but because Adora wasn’t feeling well. She wanted to see the cellist’s player’s face better, but the lighting was so dramatic.

There was a scar she knew of—that only _Catra_ would have—but if this was truly her there was no telling. Her mounds of curls covered up that part of her neck and ear.

_My Catra_.

Adora politely clapped at the end and left with the small crowd, feeling still fragmented. Numb, but in a tingly way?

That night, Adora was a bit more responsible. She opened all her windows wide again, blasted some crummy early-2000’s pop, and tackled the rest of the kitchen moving boxes. She wasn’t feeling motivated, exactly, but it was more of the fact that she didn’t want the chance for her thoughts to run away again. The rain outside helped.

_“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk earlier.”_ Glimmer dipped in and out of the Facetime camera as she cleaned her own kitchen from the other end. “ _How are you doing? You looked really stressed out.”_

As tired as Adora was of being asked that, she truly appreciated that her friends cared this much. She propped her elbows up on an open box to rub her forehead. “It’s been a weird day. I can’t stop thinking about that girl, and it’s got me in a weird mood that I can’t get rid of.”

_“The cellist girl?”_

“Yeah. She just…” Adora broke the box down and folded it underneath the kitchen table. “She looks so much like her. And with this being the anniversary, I can’t stop thinking about it all. It would be an insane coincidence, but—”

“ _Adora._ ” Glimmer steadied in her camera frame, and from the other side of the video call, her eyebrows wrinkled in concern. “ _You know that we love you and we care about you. But the chances of it being her—”_

“—Are slim, I know. It’s probably not.”

_“If you get your hopes up, it’ll just hurt you so much more.”_

That familiar feeling bubbled uncomfortably in Adora’s stomach. She knew all of this was true, and she knew that her friend was trying to look out for her. But she wanted to know she was strong enough.

She turned her tablet sideways, propping it up better on the kitchen table where it sat. “I’m done with being hurt, Glim. I just want to know if it’s her so I can get on with my life. It’s not like she’d even want to see me again. Not after how everything ended.”

“ _You guys were kids. You can’t blame_ anyone _for that.”_

“Yeah, I know. Maybe she doesn’t remember me anymore.”

For a moment, Glimmer and Adora sat in silence on their video call, Adora holding a bubble-wrapped centerpiece on her lap. Those times were so precious to her, but it had been a long time. They were both grown, different people than they were back them. Adora had gone off to be a teacher and Catra…well, she didn’t know. The last day they saw each other was the last day they ever spoke.

She hadn’t made any efforts to reach out, she just…disappeared.

“Maybe I just want to know it’s her to relieve some of my own guilt,” Adora mumbled to herself, popping some of the bubble wrap. She glanced up at Glimmer on her tablet screen. “If I knew she was okay, I wouldn’t feel so bad.”

_“She’s not your responsibility. You don’t need to feel bad for what happened, because you drew the worst straw in that deal.”_

From somewhere behind Glimmer, there was a thunking noise and the sound of an opening door.

Adora peered into the background as her other best friend came into view. “Hey Bow.”

“ _Hey Adora! How’s the job going? Meet any cute professors yet?”_

Adora rolled her eyes. She was asked that every time she talked to Bow. “I’m not looking to date anyone right now. I’ve got to get my own mess sorted out before I can deal with anyone else’s.”

“ _But you could deal with each other’s messes together.”_ Bow threw his arms around Glimmer’s shoulders and rubbed his stubble across her cheek. _“You have to keep yourself open to the possibilities.”_

_“Ow, Bow. Your stubble hurts. And you need to take a shower! Disgusting!”_

_“You love my stubble, admit it.”_

_“I don’t love the smell of your clothes after work. Seriously.”_

Adora felt herself smile a little. Those two had been inseparable for a long time, so it was no surprise when they got together. Even Glimmer, who she’d known as an adoptive sister since 14, acted so sure of that bit of herself.

Part of Adora was sad that she was the only one who didn’t have that sense of completeness, but she knew it was for the best. She wasn’t ready for anything like that.

“I should probably go,” she said, picking up the tablet and getting the other’s attention. “I’ll call again soon.”

“ _We love you, Adora!”_ Glimmer smooshed her face close to her camera, joined by Bow. “ _Miss you so much!”_

“Miss you guys too. Bye.” Adora hung up the call and put the tablet down.

Talking with them made her feel better. They were right—they were always right about things like that. There was no point in feeling nostalgic, because her life was her own right then. It may have been Catra, but it might not be. Either way, they weren’t in each other’s lives, and that wasn’t going to change. As much as she missed her and missed their time together, it was in the past. And it will stay in the past.

Adora was glad to start that night’s bedtime routine.

Shower, braid her hair, brush her teeth. Put clean socks on and slip under her bedcovers. She left her bedroom window opened slightly; the neighborhood was safe enough, and she enjoyed the sound of the rainy season pattering on the grass outside. She wasn’t playing any music that night, content to just listen to the rain, but it wasn’t just the rain.

Something else came through. Low notes of an instrument, muffled like it was far away. Pulling across strings in the rhythm of Bach’s Cello Suit No. 1—the most eerie coincidence.

It was _their_ song. Playing just for her.

If this was the only way Adora was able to keep Catra in her heart still, she’d take it. This belonged to just her now, and it was the way she fell asleep.

“I’m so happy you’ve decided to come to hot yoga with us tomorrow.”

The scent of spices and herbs were almost too much, wafting from the professor sitting next to Adora in the library café. Perfuma had been one of her friends since the beginning of college, as they took a lot of the same classes together for the first two years. She was a different brand of perfect compared to Adora.

Even though she never studied or took initiative in any of her work, she managed to have fantastic scores and a fantastic social life along with it. She found herself lounging around Adora a lot as the latter studied and worked.

Perfuma sipped on a tea thermos. “You haven’t gone since the first week you got here. They’re all asking about you.” Her messy blond bun looked so heavy it would fall off the side of her head.

It was nice to spend time with people other than her best friends over Facetime, but Adora understood that Perfuma could be tiresome company sometimes.

“I’m not much of a hot yoga kind of person,” Adora admitted, picking a chunk of muffin from its wrapper. “The thought of being super sweaty with a bunch of other super sweaty people is gross.” Being so close and personal with the scent of half a dozen people was off-putting to say the least.

“But it’s so _cleansing_. Sweating is how you know toxins are leaving your body.” Some sort of flower petal fell from the other girl’s hair. “And the incense burned during session is a perfect… _natural_ way to wake you up in the morning!” Perfuma’s eye flicked to the coffee in Adora’s hand, loaded with processed sugar and creamer.

“Nothing about five in the morning is natural on a Saturday. But,” Adora drained the mug dry, “I’m excited to see everyone again.”

Maybe if she goes once a month it will keep them at bay. There was no way her body could handle doing that every single week. She was not built for something like that. She was a track-and-field girl, not a sweaty contortionist girl.

At 10:30, Adora’s watch buzzed on her wrist and she looked down at it.

“I have to go,” she tried not to yawn, despite the coffee. “I’ll be in the library until five-ish if you need anything.” Most of that will be with students, but not all. If she got the chance, she’d like to go over next week’s curriculum ahead of time.

Perfuma stood with her. Wrinkles from the lap of her dress smoothed downwards with the motion. Effortlessly free and beautiful. “It’s always nice chatting with you, Adora. As rare as it is. Come by the greenhouse any time, okay?”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Waving one last time to the botany professor, Adora left the café and made her way down to the library study area.

Luckily, Fridays were easy for her. She didn’t have any classes scheduled, so she spent the day at the library. She mostly had appointments with students about questions or coursework, and some of the time she just hung around the study area available for students to pop by for help. If it was slow enough, she went back up to the third-floor to the spot she liked above the courtyard.

Adora enjoyed her job. She was grateful for the position she’d been offered and even more grateful that it was something she genuinely _wanted_. Not many people can say the same. Glimmer owned a salon where she was the head stylist and was able to express herself in that way, as her own hair hadn’t been a natural color since before they knew each other. Bow was the trainer at a rock-climbing gym and taught archery lessons on the weekends, which was perfect for burning all his energy.

They were as blessed as it could be in that department, and maybe that’s why they were so content with their lives. Still, Adora wished she was a little closer to them. It was hard to be a road trip away.

For lunch, she grabbed a lettuce wrap and ate it at the study center. Students came and went, asking various questions and using the copier to take pages of notes home with them. For all intents and purposes, it was just an average Friday.

Traffic died down in the afternoon. Adora was comfortable enough leaving the study area and work on her own projects on the third floor. This all might be more fun if she actually was good at playing an instrument, but oh well. While she loved music, she was _very_ bad with her hands.

Fridays were a little busier in the library, clearly; someone was already in her favorite spot in the autobiography section. They had a hooded sweatshirt pulled over their head, legs crossed and typing furiously on a laptop.

_My spot,_ Adora thought grumpily to herself. That’s fine. She made herself comfortable on the adjacent table, spreading out materials to work.

Time passed.

Outside the large library windows, rain began falling again. There hadn’t been a single decent day that whole week, it was all clouds and water and wind. Their city was a little uglier in this type of weather because all the colors were washed out. Maybe that’s what was contributing to Adora’s moods lately, the gross weather. It added white noise to work in, but that’s the only use.

Wind blew sheets of rain sideways against the window. The trees outside were hardly even visible in a torrent like that. It had become so loud; the storm wasn’t even white noise anymore. Even the other person there pulled out a pair of headphones and stuck them in.

_That’s a good idea._ Adora paused to dig through her bag for headphones. Past all the meticulously sorted dividers and pouches. However, they weren’t there. _Maybe I left them at home_. _Oh well._

She continued without them.

Every so often, Adora would look up across the workspace. The other person was still there, almost like they hadn’t noticed her presence. One of the sneakers had a mismatched shoelace tucked into the side rather than being tied. A student, probably. There were keychains and pins decorating their bag, too, but it was too far away to really make out what any of them were.

_Focus, Adora._ She was having to force herself to write out this last quiz instruction for the online program one of her classes uses. It wasn’t even hard, she just kept getting distracted. Through the storm, and the other person being in her secret spot, work was nearly impossible.

It was getting close to 4:00 at that point, the last tutoring session she’d scheduled with a student. Her left leg kept bouncing impatiently. _Just finish making this stupid PowerPoint already._ Unless she wanted to finish it at home, she only had half an hour to get it done.

Across the area, the stranger working alone shifted. While Adora didn’t pay much attention, the motion of them taking their hoodie off drew her eyes automatically upwards. It was just a glance, a brief second, and she saw—

Tattoos. The arm she saw had a half-sleeve of mandala and a forearm of flowers.

This wouldn’t originally startle her, but something in the back of her mind kicked her. Something…something important. It took a second, but the person finished dragging off their sweatshirt—and it was a girl.

A mass of messy curls fell out, down her back, and it clicked. _The_ girl _. The cellist._ In the library? Why?

Adora made a choice in an instant and stood to leave. She couldn’t deal with whatever that meant, nor the unlikely possibilities that had been eating her up inside.It only took a few seconds to grab her stuff before leaving. She was so focused on leaving the area (that, and the storm) she didn’t hear something fall to the ground until a second later.

“Hey, you dropped something.”

Instinctually, she turned.

The other person there was standing, holding out Adora’s headphones. The cellist.

At first glance, she looked beautiful and wild, rich skin covered in freckles and perfectly carved like a piece of art. However, something stopped Adora—her eyes, sharp as steel and two different colors so vibrant it looked as though she might be wearing contacts.

They stared directly into Adora’s heart, straight through both her lungs and her spine—

Adora nearly fell over. She had been struck by a memory, a feeling, a taste in her mouth many years ago that had taken just as many years to go away. It was the taste of Pop Tarts on the bus ride to school, and a _feeling_ inside of her.

They stared at one another for a moment, the other woman looking unimpressed and almost impatient as she held the headphones out. _One second. Two seconds_. Then her eyebrows began to raise.

_No no no._

Adora snatched them away, not even bothering to stop and stuff them into her pocket before running.

_It’s her._

_It’s Catra._


	2. She Used to be Mine

_The summer was hotter than usual. Shade beneath the tree canopies cooked the foliage into a familiar earthy smell. Even the cicadas, which were usually deafening, sounded more lethargic. All of this may have been a deterrent for some, but not for Adora and Catra. They had dragged Catra’s outside sprinkler underneath their trampoline and were laughing at the spray of water every time one of them jumped._

_“Adora!” Catra grabbed her best friend and wrestled her to the side of the trampoline. “Watch me, watch me!” She jumped a few times and did a half of a flip before landing ungracefully onto her backside. Laughter drowned out any other sounds._

_“That was so cool!” Adora jumped onto the grass. Her wet hair was plastered uncomfortably down her back, but she didn’t care. “I bet you can’t do two in a row.”_

_“I bet I_ can! _” The other girl tried and succeeded._

_They had been running around all day, goofing off and driving Catra’s parents insane. They had put out snacks on the patio table, most of which were damp from the kids not drying off before eating._

_Adora grabbed a bowl full of cherries and took it out to the lawn with her, laying on the grass and waiting for Catra to get tired and join her—which she did eventually._

_For a while, they lay splayed on their backs, staring up at the sky and letting drops from the sprinkler rain over their feet every now and then. Everything about this—about the happy home, the weather, being with her best friend… It was everything Adora wanted, and it was a happiness she never got at her own dumb house._

_“I don’t want summer to end.” Catra bit one of the cherries in half and stained her lips red. “I mean, it’ll be really cool ‘cause we’ll be middle schoolers, but we wouldn’t have any time to do anything fun.”_

_“I heard that in middle school, there’s homework every single day.”_

_Catra draped her arm over her face. “They can’t_ make _me do any of it.”_

_“We could still hang out and study together, right?”_

_She peeked one of her eyes open and saw Adora staring at her with a concerned expression. Her will instantly crumbled._

_“Well yeah, whatever.” Catra turned away, not understanding why her cheeks were hot. “But_ you _can study, I’m not going to do any of that nerdy stuff.”_

_Somewhere a ways into the tree line, a frog began croaking. There was a small creek than ran close to Catra’s backyard, and they often had visitors that liked the fresh water. They made for good company._

_Deep in Adora’s heart, she knew they were changing. Maybe not growing apart, but as they grew older, the air around them was different. It had gotten so strong that summer, she felt restless to avoid whatever change it may be._

_Some days, when she was really feeling bad, it made her stomach sick and her head spin, and she always found herself hugging the stuffed unicorn named Swift Wind that Catra had given her for her birthday._

_The only time she tried talking with her mom about it, all she had said in return was: “You’re just throwing a tantrum, child. Please don’t embarrass me. You’re_ my _daughter, and I can’t have you ruining our reputation.”_

_After that, Adora kept it to herself. She’d only ever told Catra the bad feelings that she got, and in return, Catra always tackled her down and tickled her until they were both laughing._

_“See?” Catra would always tell her. “We’re fine. Nothing is going to hurt us as long as we have each other!”_

_This wasn’t true for too much longer. Adora’s mom shocked them last-minute by enrolling her into the private middle school across town, splitting her and Catra up. Apparently, Catra was too much of a distraction for her responsibilities. They still saw each other, but not as often._

_Her mom grew colder and more distant until the September when they were fourteen, and everything changed._

“Adora, I sense you have something on your mind.” Perfuma’s infuriatingly sweet voice brought Adora back to the present.

She had gotten her body twisted up into a yoga position and had been too weak to force herself and change positions when the others did. Her legs shook when she changed to the next pose.

“I’m fine,” Adora told Perfuma, trying not to pant. _Man, I smell bad,_ she thought.

Beside her, Mermista’s form was nearly perfect. “If she’s anything like Sea Hawk over here, she probably ate too much dairy for breakfast and is worried about gassing us out every five minutes.”

“It’s hard to hold in! I said I was sorry.”

If their hands weren’t occupied by the yoga poses, everyone would’ve pointed and laughed at him.

 _My friends._ Adora had avoided them for several weeks, but even she had to enjoy herself. It wasn’t as though she didn’t enjoy being around them; she just didn’t want her dark cloud of anxiety to ruin their only times together. And yet—there it was, hanging over her. Maybe this time wasn’t anxiety, but they could definitely sense it.

“Adora,” Perfuma said again, slower and gentler. “Why don’t you talk to us about it?” She stretched her leg completely behind her and lifted her arms up, everyone else following suit. “This yoga session is to calm the body, heart and mind. We’re your friends.”

“Dating problems?” Mermista rolled her eyes to Sea Hawk. “We’ve all been there. Spit it out.”

“No, no.” They weren’t going to leave Adora alone until she told them about what’s going on. It would make her feel better, too, just like she felt better after talking to Bow and Glimmer about it. “It’s kind of weird to explain, you guys might be bored.”

Steam billowed from the vent of their private yoga room, readjusting the temperature to a comfortable 5,000 degrees. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else.

Adora took a drink from her water bottle, trying not to pass out.

“We could never be bored, Adora. You’re our friend. Bend your knee a little more, it’s supposed to be parallel to the mat.”

She did, straining. “It’s just that something came up—some _one_ came up—that I wasn’t ready to see again. I haven’t seen her in years, and we didn’t really end on good terms—”

“Ooh a dramatic backstory,” Sea Hawk tutted. “I _love_ those!”

“Shush, she’s telling us a story.”

Adora smiled gratefully. “It’s really not very interesting. I just hurt someone’s feelings a long time ago I hadn’t seen her since. But I think I saw her yesterday.” That was a very abridged version of the true story, to put it mildly. The only people who really knew what happened were Bow and Glimmer.

Bending into an impossible pose, Perfuma inhaled with her eyes closed, and then when exhaling opened them. “It sounds like all that you need to do is apologize. It was long enough ago—”

“She’s probably already forgotten,” finished Mermista, shrugging her shoulders. “If all you’ve been doing is avoiding her.”

“I’m not—” Guilt immediately flooded into Adora’s throat. Her legs wobbled once before collapsing, sending her hard onto the yoga mat. _Guilt guilt guilt._ “It’s not…that simple.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, knowing full well she stunk like a piece of roadkill. “Something horrible happened and then I just left her, and she was…” _Her freckles, the way she wrestled Adora to the ground when she was excited._ “She was really special to me. It’s not a forgive and forget kind of thing.”

It was barely high school, and they were long grown since then. But she couldn’t forget, and she definitely couldn’t forgive. She couldn’t forgive _herself_. There was no way anything could make what she did better. The time after what happened were horrible.

Her adoptive mom, Angella, would try to comfort her with the usual, “It’s not your fault,” and “It’s okay to feel hurt,” and “We’re not given more than we can handle.” But all this didn’t matter when Adora knew in her heart what happened was wrong. Even if it wasn’t directly her fault.

Everything was just…bad. And messed up. And it hurt. She tried to feel better about it, but even with all this time passing, she couldn’t forget.

Her friends noticed the drop in mood. When she’d sat down from the yoga position, the others followed suit. For the most part, they looked a little uncomfortable, like they didn’t know what to say, until Perfuma spoke.

“Maybe we should wrap up for the day.” She stood, not even panting from the exertion and heat. “My girlfriend’s café isn’t far from here; why don’t I treat us to some breakfast?”

“Breakfast sounds nice.”

Without even questioning, the group got up and rolled their mats. Adora was too embarrassed to look up, but she felt a hand pat her shoulder comfortingly. _Thank god we’re done with hot yoga. Maybe I won’t have to go for another month._ Breakfast on Saturdays sounded much better than that.

In the gym showers, Adora took too long washing her hair. Her mind wandered all sorts of places, but every few seconds it would always come back to Catra. The look on her face when their eyes met in the library Yesterday. Was it shock? Hatred? No, it wasn’t hatred. It had been so long, what could have possibly been on her mind?

Maybe she didn’t even recognize Adora, and it was just the way her face looked.

“ _Adora._ ” Mermista knocked on the shower curtain, which didn’t really make a noise but startled her from the movement. “You’re taking _forever_.”

“Yeah, I’m coming out.” The thoughts were pushed aside for the time being, but Adora couldn’t get rid of them even as dried off and left the shower.

The drive from the gym to the café was five minutes. This commute was known, as the bistro in question belonged to Perfuma’s girlfriend, Scorpia. Scorpia hadn’t gone to school with them; she wasn’t even involved in anything at the college, but they all had become close just by knowing Perfuma. Their first meeting had been startling, just because she did not look like any café owner that Adora knew of, but she was nicer than all of them.

Towering muscles, a sharp cropped hairdo, and arms covered in tattoos made a fake front for her teddy-bear personality. Being hugged by her was like being throw against a brick wall by another brick wall. And boy, did she make _amazing_ food.

When the group sat down, no one bothered even looking at a menu; Scorpia’s cooks would make whatever they wanted. Most of the time they just had whatever was on the griddle, but the daily specials were hard to beat.

Low café lights turned everyone’s complexion soft, taking the edge off their moods. It may have been morning still, but the atmosphere was so warm it felt like evening.

Perfuma smiled and perked up the second the owner came around the corner of the bar. Just seeing her made her demeanor light up even brighter than usual.

“Let me guess,” Scorpia put her tattooed hands on her hips, “we’re all going to be wanting the special. Am I right? Yes?”

Everyone there agreed, prompting the owner back to her kitchen. They heard a few orders barked and the sound of sizzling pans that followed. That place was run so smoothly, hardly anyone minded the tacky décor. If there was anything Scorpia took pride in, it was her girlfriend and her work.

“I’m sorry that it’s been so long since we’ve all been able to hang out like this,” Adora apologized, taking a drink of her mocha. “Schedules have been…weird lately.”

It was Mermista who shrugged, looking genuinely unconcerned. “Eh, we’re all adults. Schedules are always weird.”

“It’s just a shame the _whole_ gang couldn’t be here.”

Everyone except for Adora exchanged glances. It was one of those we-know-something-that-you-don’t things. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Sea Hawk had his eyes at the door, which was to Adora’s back. “I _said:_ I’s a shame the WHOLE gang couldn’t be here!”

Adora was only confused for another five seconds before the café door behind them jingled. And a party-horn noise from a cell phone.

“We’re here!!”

She turned to see Bow and Glimmer barreling towards them at the speed of light, throwing down their bags. Their excitement nearly crashed them into the table, but Adora caught them.

“Bow!!” Adora’s arms hugged tight around their necks. “Glimmer! I can’t believe you drove this far so early! How did you know we’d be here?”

She didn’t want to let go, but Bow squirmed out of the grasp. “I haven’t gone to the bathroom in five hours, I’ll be right back.”

While her boyfriend dashed, Glimmer held on for just a second longer before letting go. It had only been a few weeks since they’d seen each other in person, but it felt like a lifetime. Was her hair longer? “You told us you were getting together this morning.” Her eyes sparkled. “We couldn’t miss it! Both Bow and I were off work today, so there was no reason not to. Plus…” Glimmer looked downward. “You’ve been upset the last few days. It’s hard not being with you during the down times, you know?”

For some reason, this gesture made Adora want to cry. Her throat felt hot and thick, like she was swallowing a coal. “I’m fine.” _Not really._ “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be dumb, yes we did.”

There was a clink from the table as refills of their drinks were set down. Sea Hawk was having way too much coffee, and his moustache had cream-frosted tips. Everything they made her at the café was delicious, so this was no surprise. Many smells from the kitchen preluded breakfast, making each of their stomachs rumble.

“How did the drive go?” Perfuma helped Glimmer pull two more chairs up to their table. “It has looked stormy all morning.”

“Ugh, that’s no surprise. Autumn is usually bad, but this has been especially disgusting. The drive was fine, though.”

While chatting, Bow had come back from the restroom. He had swapped his usual cropped t-shirt with a cropped sweater because of the weather, and this was so normal for him no one mentioned it.

The others chatted, and Adora just stared into the drink in her hands. She thought back to the day before. _I saw Catra. I actually saw her. It was really her._

Had she had been feet away from her for the whole afternoon without even knowing? They could’ve… _talked_. Caught up. But that would’ve meant she’d have to face what happened and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that yet.

Would she ever be ready? They had made eye contact, but just because Adora recognized Catra didn’t mean that _she_ had recognized _her._

“Adora?”

She snapped her head up, nearly knocking a plate of food off Scorpia’s hand as it was served.

“Sorry.” Adora’s head was foggy. “Sorry, Scorpia. It looks amazing.” Her gaze followed the plate down until it was in front of her. Sweet steam filled her nostrils. “Thank you.”

They ate for a few minutes, but Adora knew something was close to giving. It was obvious that Perfuma had cut their yoga session short because Adora wasn’t feeling well. They hardly even knew who Catra was, and she was pretty sure they didn’t even know who _she_ was. Maybe.

Perfuma asked Glimmer and Bow about the raccoon babies in their attic, Sea Hawk built a tower out of jam packets, and Adora…couldn’t stop thinking about Catra.

Sometime during breakfast, Glimmer nudged Adora’s side and leaned closer to have their own conversation. “How is unpacking going?”

“I got a little more done, but it’s hard focusing.” To admit that was to admit Adora had been feeling dark for that long. “I’m sorry. Change is hard.”

The worst part of it was knowing all this and not being able to change it. Knowing her anxiety was drowning her, knowing she needed to get a move on, but knowing she just couldn’t. Being back at her hometown _and_ seeing her old best friend was a double-punch to her heart.

Glimmer reached under the table and took hold of her hand. “Adora.” On the other side, Bow did the same. “Change is always hard, it’s okay. If you ever need to talk to us about it, we’re great at listening.”

“I know you are.” Adora squeezed both of their hands and watched Sea Hawk’s jam tower collapse. “When are you driving back home?”

“Later tonight. We can help you at your house?”

Something to take her mind off of everything. Her new house hardly felt like a home, but that’s because she hadn’t let it be. Maybe with her friends in there, it would turn her view of this city around.

“Let’s take care of business then,” she decided, letting their hands go and finishing off her coffee. “Maybe I’ll finally find my blow-dryer.”

After breakfast and temporary good-byes to friends, Adora, Glimmer and Bow headed out across town.

In all honestly, her neighborhood was perfect. The houses were clean and quiet, with enough trees to give privacy but not to smother. The main road wound up a slight incline, which meant that when the sun set, it poured like liquid gold over the west side of the houses. It wasn’t anything like Adora was used to growing up, but it was much better than her apartment in young adulthood.

Adora’s house was at the edge of a tree line that separated her property from the next. The original owners had painted it dark grey and upkept a garden in the front yard, but Adora hadn’t been able to go out and weed since she’d moved in. Because of this, her property looked wilder than it should’ve. All the rain they’d gotten made everything grow so much faster, too.

“I forgot how cute your house is!” When parked, Bow hopped out of the passenger seat and took a deep breath in. “Why don’t _we_ have a garden?”

“We don’t have a real yard, Bow.”

“I wish we did.”

“Come on, guys.” Adora rolled her eyes and grabbed one of their backpacks to head inside.

It was a little before noon at that time. They’d spent the morning at hot yoga and Scorpia’s café, but since the three of them had eaten recently, they were able to get right to work without worrying about lunch immediately.

“Should we take separate rooms?” Glimmer pulled her hair back into a bandana and rolled her sleeves up. Her shirt had some obscure band logo on it, but the words were written in glitter. She shed it wherever she walked, usually.

Bow pulled his sweater off. “Why don’t we work on the same rooms together? I brought my speaker.”

“Please don’t make the neighbors call the cops on us over your music, Bow.”

They started work on the living room first. The furniture was all in place, so the three of them ripped open boxes, threw away used bubble wrap, and put things away.

“Oh my gosh, Adora, do you remember when we took these?” Bow pulled a set of framed pictures from a box and held them up. They were a collage of the three of them in front of various green screens, wearing costumes. “We were such babies back then.”

“Aww.” Glimmer took a photo from him. “This was Frosta’s birthday party, right?”

They hadn’t seen her for a while, but Adora remembered that day. She paused her unpacking to come over and look at the photos with her friends. “Didn’t we get banned from the obstacle course because we broke part of it goofing off?”

“ _You_ broke part of it.”

Adora laughed at the thought, mostly because she’d ripped her pants that day, and everyone got an eyeful of her striped underwear. Even as young adults, they acted like such children. It was so easy to get carried away when you’re close to people like that.

“We definitely have to hang this somewhere everyone can see.” Glimmer picked up some hooks and followed Bow. They went directly to the wall over the fireplace and worked on putting them up.

The memory was special to Adora. They’d gotten so much time together to just be teenagers. Adora hadn’t really gotten that before then.

She’d been adopted by Glimmer’s family after what happened to her mom, so they were basically sisters. When they met Bow in college, the three of them became instant family. Then, a few years later, him and Glimmer started dating. The rest was history.

“I appreciate you guys helping out,” Adora said, folding up an empty box and tossing it by the door. The pile of empty boxes were slowly beginning to overtake the pile of full ones. “I don’t know how long this would’ve taken me if I had to do this by myself.”

“Bow would have a beard by then, I’m pretty sure.”

They messed around for another few minutes before continuing.

At one point, Adora was tidying up the front of the house and found the flyer from this season’s orchestra. It was the same one she’d stuffed into her pocket after running out of the theater like a madman. The others didn’t notice her brief pause in cleaning, so there was a moment to look.

She held the paper like it could’ve exploded. Opened it. Like every other program, there was a list of songs and information about each of the artists. At the very end was a special addition: _Soloist of Tchaikovsky on a Rocco Theme; Composer and first cellist, Catia Apostolos._

Catia. Adora touched the name with the tip of her finger. It had been years since she’d heard Catra’s real name in her head. They’d met in kindergarten when their family first moved there. Adora had never met someone with a name like that and ended up pronouncing it wrong (as five-year-olds do) for months before being made aware of her mistake. By then, the name had stuck.

And so had Catra. Adora loved no one else in the world more than she loved her.

She folded the program back up and stuck it back in her coat pocket hanging next to the door. They could revisit that later.

In the early afternoon, Bow, Glimmer and Adora took a break to make some lunch. There still wasn’t a lot of food in the fridge, but after fixing some stuff they settled on the back porch. This view was of the woods, and the corner edge of her neighbor’s property. Even though the weather wasn’t perfect, they were able to stretch out and relax.

“We should come visit more often.” Glimmer propped her sneakers up on the patio table. “Your house is so _nice._ And so much bigger than our condo.”

Grass in the backyard swayed a bit from the breeze, bringing the scent of autumn. Leaves were just starting to turn colors, too.

Adora leaned back in her chair. A half-glass of wine swirled in one hand, and the other hand tucked between her thighs as she listened to the outdoors. She wished that her friends could be there with her all the time, just like they always had been.

That hole in her heart hadn’t always been so deep. She’d had Glimmer and Bow, and before that, she had Catra. Now it was just seeing Perfuma, Mermista and Sea Hawk once a week, if that. With her friends being there now, it was almost like nothing had changed.

But _everything_ had.

“Hey, is that a cat?” Glimmer interrupted the silence and pointed off to the edge of the trees.

“A cat?”

She was right. It was hard to see at first in the un-mowed grass, but in just a few seconds, a head popped up. It was big and bald, with eyes that bulged a little when blinking.

“Aww, it’s so ugly,” Glimmer cooed, standing and creeping to the edge of the lawn. “Come here, kitty!” She began making a clicking noise with her tongue to lure it over, to which Bow and Adora snickered.

“It’s not going to come to you.” Adora took a drink of her wine. “You’re very threatening.”

“I am not!”

More laughter came from Bow. “You’re like a poison dart frog. Your hair wards away predators.”

“You guys are rude. Cats love me.”

This cat didn’t fall for any of Glimmer’s calls. It leapt onto a fence post and watched them for a minute before diving over the other side and vanishing.

“Never mind, cats hate me. Let’s go back inside.”

The back yard and porch area were so nice and empty; it was hard going back indoors where boxes still waited for them. It was not as bad as it was before, but still intimidating. Adora was just so glad to have Glimmer and Bow there with her to help.

For the rest of the afternoon, they worked hard. Adora had opened all the windows and turned Bow’s speaker on to blast music. Their time was divided into snacks, unpacking, dancing badly, and making fun of Adora’s taste in interior design.

By the time dinner came, they ordered takeout and ate in the kitchen—which was unpacked by then. Everything felt as it should: safe, happy, warm. Surrounded by people who care. Part of Adora felt a bit of regret for ever leaving them. She even considered for a split-second returning, but no.

Change is always hard, but as long as they could still hang out sometimes it would be fine.

“We should probably head back.” After finishing dinner, Bow stretched and patted his stomach. “I don’t want it to be too dark by the time we get home.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Glimmer turned to Adora. Only then did her expression shift to the concern seen that morning. “Adora… Are you going to be okay? With Catra and everything. Are you going to talk to her?”

 _Ugh_. She really hadn’t thought about that much that day, but she was tired of being anxious about it. “I don’t know yet.” She scooped all the dinner trash into the can. “I haven’t decided. There’s a good chance she wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so whatever happens…” Adora’s chest squeezed, just a little. “Whatever happens, I have to be okay with.”

To that, her best friends hugged her tight. They both smelled a little from working so hard all day and from the takeout, but there was nothing as nice as a huge so warm.

“Next time, I’ll go visit you guys,” Adora promised as she pulled away. “Hopefully it won’t be so long in between.”

“We’ll hold you to it. Come on Bow, you’re driving.”

She watched as they gathered their stuff back up and left, waving as she stood there in the driveway. It didn’t have the same kind of bittersweet sadness that she felt when she moved away last month. Still, goodbyes were hard.

However Catra felt about her, she was entitled to those feelings. _They_ didn’t get a real goodbye.

“Oh well,” Adora signed to herself. There was still one last room to finish unpacking, and that was her bedroom.

It wasn’t a lot. Her bed was made and some of her clothes were already hung and folded. The rest of the boxes just need to be sorted.

Adora picked up the board game box of mementos and opened it one last time. All of that felt like so long ago. It felt hard to believe that was her life but looking at this picture that she and Catra had taken made it feel more connected.

Catra still had the same nose, the shape of her eyes. The unintentional scowl and heavy eyebrows. She was cute back then. Super cute. But Adora couldn’t afford to think about things right now so she tucked them far back inside of her. And the box went safe under her bed for another rainy day.

The very last item she pulled was a stuffed unicorn. Its fur was flat and grey with age, and all the rope for its mane was frayed, but the love was there.

“At least I still have you, huh, Swifty?” She crawled up into bed and stared at the ceiling with the stuffed animal given to her by Catra in fifth grade. The fabric’s softness was long gone, but the love was still there.

_“See? We’re fine. Nothing is going to hurt us as long as we have each other!”_

With one day left of her weekend, Adora spent Sunday trying to be productive. Unpacking the day before was a start, but if she wanted to keep this going, she’d have to at least _pretend_ to be functional.

She mowed her lawn, took the empty cardboard boxes to recycling, and even bought some groceries on her way home. All before 9:00AM. Neither Glimmer nor Bow would be awake that early on a Sunday, so she spent it with the company of her own thoughts.

Unusually, she was feeling okay. The sky was speckled with clouds, but there was no rain. Even the trees seemed a little more relieved turning golden with the season. After spending time and talking with her friends the day before, Adora felt much more confident in her feelings about everything that happened. She came up with a list of thoughts that she could rely on:

One, Catra was the new professor at the college she is working at. This she confirmed with a simple text to one of her colleagues who let her know about the new profession cellist that would be teaching string classes for the rest of the year.

Two, they knew of each other’s existence. At least, Adora thought that Catra recognized her, but she couldn’t be certain. This meant that they had the chance to talk if they really wanted.

Three, Adora had to decide whether or not she wanted to reopen old wounds by apologizing. Even if it was a single meeting over coffee and they never spoke again, she felt like there wouldn’t be any closure without an apology.

Did she really want closure? Was she ready for it? Now _that,_ she wasn’t sure of. This was a decision she had yet to make.

Working out was much better than hot yoga. There was a big difference between the burn of muscles from pushing them and the burn of muscles trying to keep your body from disintegrating. She did track and field in high school, so keeping in shape was important to her.

She wore her favorite sweatsuit that had pockets deep enough for her cellphone, the same 2000’s pop through headphones. While running, she could let her mind drift and center itself without any real thought. No one needs any thought while listening to Gwen Stefani.

Glimmer had made fun of her for being a music major with terrible tastes, but what could she say?

 _Maybe I should invest in a treadmill for home,_ Adora thought as she surveyed the gym on her run. At one corner was a shirtless guy taking selfies in the mirrors. At the other end was a team of girls spotting one another at the weights.

Even though the gym itself was mostly empty, it would be nice to be able to finish a workout under her own shower.

The song she was listening to got quieter as it ended, and it was enough for the buzz of the front door to be audible. Adora didn’t look, just kept running.

 _Maybe I should run outside more instead?_ If she wasn’t going to buy a whole treadmill for the house, she could always work out outside rather than be inside the gym. She didn’t want guys in pickup trucks cat-calling her though, because witty comebacks always came to her after they drove away.

Another beep from a few treadmills away, and the steady footfall of someone getting on and starting. Having this many people in the gym was usually the point at which Adora decides to go home, but going home meant cleaning more.

She decided to stay for a little longer. As she agreed with herself, she looked over at the person jogging next to her.

_BA-DUMP._

Adora’s heart slammed up into her throat. Of course— _of course_ Catra would be there. Because that’s what her life has become these days. And what was worse, she nearly had Adora fooled.

The very first time she’d seen her since high school was at the orchestra, where she was perfectly done and covered in red silk. The second time was in the library where she was wearing a grungy sweatshirt with piercings all up her ears. This time, she could’ve been anyone.

Catra was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, curls pulled out of her face but still bouncing as she ran. If she’d noticed Adora there, she gave no indication. Her earbuds were in, too, but the most striking thing was the scar.

When they were nine, Adora and Catra were trying to play with her neighbor’s dog through the fence but it had got out and attacked them. Most of what Adora remember about that day was the screaming and the blood pouring from the side of Catra’s face and neck as they helplessly tried to beat the dog off of her.

Later, in the hospital, Adora’s mom was yelling at Catra’s mom for putting her daughter in danger like that. They didn’t know what happened to the dog, but after Catra was able to take her bandages off, there was a horrifying scar that covered the side of her neck that went all the way up to her ear. The dog had disfigured it horribly.

 _“It kinda looks like a cat ear,”_ Adora had told her, trying to comfort a crying Catra after being bullied at school. _“It makes you look like a fierce tiger. I like it!”_

And there it was, uncovered from the style Catra had her hair in. If there was any doubt it was her, this blew it out of the water.

 _“Jesus Christ,_ ” Adora muttered, gathering her stuff as quickly as she could, fumbling headphones into their case, and fast-walking her way to the front door.

It almost seemed like destiny trying to force them together. Was this the world’s way of punishing her? By not giving her a _single day_ of peace? And on top of that, Catra’s shorts were red, Adora’s favorite color—so it was impossible to get them out of her head.

This was her punishment. And by god, Adora was going to spend the rest of her life thinking about her.

** CATRA’S POV **

Sunday morning found Catra heading to the gym. She didn’t go often, between the orchestra and her new upcoming job, but that day she needed something to do. Her brain had been…rattled lately.

The end of the season always left a bit of a dent in her. It was the feeling that a kid might get after Christmas—the low after the high. She expected it, of course, since she’d been part of the orchestra for several years, but this year was different. She was taking a break from touring and getting a “real” job.

The money was enticing, and the way everything happened felt meant to be. The timing of the job offer, the end of the season, etcetera. She liked going with the flow, so she tried to not let anything bother her.

_Tried._

Inside the gym, she headed to the back towards the lockers to get dressed. It was a small gym, with not too many people at this time of day, but of those who were there, nearly all were facing the front. Except for one:

A tall blond, muscular even from the back, ponytail swinging from side to side as she ran on the treadmill.

 _Is that…?_ Catra watched for just a second before turning her eyes back to the locker door. Well, they were coworkers now, apparently. This may as well happen.

So Adora was suddenly back in her life. No big deal, she’d like to tell herself. It might not have even _been_ her. They hadn’t seen each other since they were young. Maybe Catra was just crazy? That’d be fun. She got dressed, locked all her stuff up, and headed out to the treadmills.

Adora didn’t even look her direction, making her think that she hadn’t even seen her. Judging by the way that she’d ran two days ago, she hadn’t expected to see Catra at all in the library. So many mixed feelings… If that’s what Catra could call it. They were a little left-over, though, stale from a _lot_ of therapy.

Each feeling had been processed and sifted into old memories.

She began a light job a few machines down from the other girl, only looking over once more to confirm—that facial structure, no she was definitely Adora. She had headphones in and a sweatsuit on, but it was the girl she’d seen in the library. And the girl she’d known all that time ago.

Reliving these emotions felt to Catra like…hypothermia. When somebody’s body is _so utterly_ cold, they can have the illusion of feeling perfectly warm.

That’s what she was. Perfectly warm. Neutral to what was bubbling back up. Numb, even. She was comfortable enough running on a treadmill just ten feet away from the girl she’d had a crush on for nearly half her entire life.

This was fine.

Catra rolled her eyes at herself. There have been people in her life since then. Several. It had been a decade, after all, so she didn’t have to have two thoughts about Adora and the kind of woman she’d become. Besides, this small moment at the treadmills told Catra all she needed to know.

It told her Adora had kept in shape, enjoyed ugly sweatsuits, and still had a face like Aphrodite’s. _I was prepared for this day_ , Catra tried to tell herself, keeping her gaze forward. _In case I ever saw her again._

Another peek.

Adora’s hands were in fists at her side, pumping as she ran. Those hands once held her own, Catra thought. They would hold hands all the time when they were younger, everywhere the went. One time, Adora scraped her knuckles on the bark of a tree and Catra kissed the knuckles to make them heal faster. It was magic science, she said.

Why could Catra not stop thinking about that? And why _now?_

She thought she was ready.

This was _fine._ It was a long time ago. She didn’t still have feelings for her, and they had both moved on with their lives, so that had to remain the fact.

She kept jogging.

After less than a minute, Adora seemed to notice. From the corner of Catra’s eye, she saw her nearly trip off the treadmill, mumble something incoherent, and rip her headphones out of her ears. Five seconds later, she was gone.

Like an idiot.

Honestly it was kind of funny. If this situation hadn’t been so bizarre, Catra’s feelings might’ve been hurt. It had been so long, she couldn’t blame her. Things ended…weird for them. In all honestly, she didn’t understand exactly what happened, only what was in the news after the fact.

She only stayed another half-hour before leaving, too. Too much weirdness inside of her.

While wiping the machine down, something on the ground caught her attention. It was a little pouch, painfully similar to the one that Adora had almost left in the library. _Too_ similar.

“Damn it, Adora.” She looked at the door, which had long since closed.

_Guess this is how it’s going to go._

Back home, Catra threw her gym bag on the floor and took a shower before turning her coffee maker on.

“What do you think, Melog?” She watched her cat jump onto the dining table and lay down over the top of open notebooks. “You’ve never met Adora, but you’d probably like her.”

The cat yawned.

“Well, the person she _was_. I don’t even know her now.” The coffee hissed and bubbled as coffee filled its pot. “But it was definitely her.”

How long had it been since they’d last seen each other? The first year of high school, so ten years ago. They were so excited to go to homecoming together, learn how to drive together, to do everything that high schoolers got to do. But they never got that.

Melog tilted his chin up as Catra scratched the bare, wrinkled skin there. He was a hairless cat and had been a rescue as a kitten when someone found him in a dumpster. Other people might find the lack of fur ugly, but Catra thought he was perfect.

“No, you’re right.” She sat down at the table. “Nothing really changes. We’re adults. We have our own lives.”

A slow-blink from Melog.

 _It’s a good thing he doesn’t talk._ Catra fixed herself a cup of coffee, trying not to sigh too dramatically. He would probably tell her to shut up any time she got like this. Too absorbed in herself she started talking out loud.

This should be easy, right?

Find Adora at campus tomorrow, leave her headphones on her desk, and then be done. Nothing else.

Unless she _wanted_ to talk, that is, but she probably wouldn’t.

“Why do girls have to be so complicated?” She pulled her notebook out from under the cat. Melog jumped lazily up to the windowsill and left the house. “Fine, ignore me. Be back before dinner!”

Silly cat. He came and went as he pleased, but with him gone, who was Catra going to talk to?

With the kitchen now empty, Catra pulled her bag towards her and fished out the headphone bag. It was nothing special, and the headphones probably cost ten dollars at the store. If it belonged to Adora, she probably wouldn’t miss them. Did she _have_ to return them?

Catra turned the bag upside-down, and with the cords, something else fell out. A little plastic ring?

When she picked it up, she was eight again at a boardwalk fair.

_“I gave you a bite of mine, now you have to share yours.” Adora took Catra’s ice cream from her hand without even asking and tasting it. “Ew, I don’t like strawberry.”_

_“Then why did you taste it, dummy?”_

_“Don’t use mean words, κόρη,” Catra’s father scolded her, ruffling her messy hair. “I raised you better than that.”_

_She ran away from his hand, giggling and taking hold of Adora’s shirt as they saw a colorful booth to their left. Someone was already there, using a pole to try and catch toy ducks in a pond. The prizes were all lined up in the back, as tempting for any kid as ever._

_“Let’s try this one!” She jammed her sticky popsicle stick in her pocket and looked back. “Can we Bampás? Please can we?”_

_“There are your kind words. Here.” He passed them a handful of money and went to sit on a bench nearby so they could have fun._

_Money didn’t go very far at fairgrounds, of course, so it was only on the last try that Catra pulled up a duck that had a sticker under its belly._

_The man behind the counter exclaimed enthusiastically. “Ah, a pink sticker! You win one of the pink prizes!” He held out a small basket for one of them to stick their hand in, and when Adora pulled back, a little pink box was clutched in her fist._

_“What is it??” Catra grabbed onto her best friend, trying to pull the prize towards her. They opened it together. Inside, two identical plastic rings. Probably worth ten cents each, nowhere near the money they blew trying to get them, but the girls were thrilled._

_They each put the rings on._

_“Look!” Adora put their hands together to compare. “Now we’re married!”_

_“But you’re not wearing a dress.” This seemed to be a problem, so Catra took her jacket off and tied it at the other girl’s waist. “There! Now we’re married!”_

_Adora threw her arms around Catra’s neck, laughing almost too loudly in her ear. There was such innocence and excitement in that embrace._

Whatever happened to that? What had happened to _them_?

Catra held the ring in the palm of her hand, guiltily wondering where her own went. So much time had passed, it was probably thrown away a long time ago. But Adora had held onto hers… Was there any reason?

Why had she kept this ring—in her headphone pouch, of all places—but not bothered to talk to Catra Friday? Or literally any time at all in the last decade.

This all was a puzzle to Catra. Nothing made perfect sense to her. For one, she thought she had gotten over all of the emotions that Adora had put her through since separating. All of the anger and resentment, and the _hurt_. The _longing._

With that, she sighed and put the ring back. “Guess not.”


	3. Blue Like Her Eyes

“Get out of the way, Melog. Your fat butt is blocking my stats.” Catra propped her leg up on the arm of the couch. Her cat started licking himself directly in front of the TV screen where she was playing video games.

He only jumped when the noise of her ringtone startled him.

Catra paused her game and picked the phone up. “Catia speaking.” Her accent always came out when she said her phone greeting. _Ugh, I sound like my mother._

 _“Catia, good evening.”_ The voice on the other line was familiar. “ _I wanted to check to see how you were feeling for this coming Thursday.”_

Mara, that was her name. The head of the music department at EUAS, her new boss.

“Fine,” she responded, begrudgingly putting the game controller down. “All ready to go, I think.”

“ _How are you finding the programs we use? Do they all make sense?”_

“Yeah, so far. I received the example curriculum when you sent it last week, so I’ve had a lot of time to adjust it to my schedule.”

_“Oh good! Well, I just wanted to check in on you. Do you have any questions for me before I let you go?”_

From across the room, Melog began chewing on his toenails, but perked up when he saw his owner staring at him. For a second, Catra thought about asking what class Adora taught. Then thought against it. “Nah, I’m good thanks for checking in.”

_“If there’s anything you need from me, just call.”_

“Thank you, will do.” Catra hung up the phone and stared at her screen for a long time afterwards. Maybe she should’ve asked, but there wouldn’t have been any point. She _knew_ that it would be a useless torture to her emotions. She was an adult, and she didn’t have to run from it, but she also knew not to blatantly seek out this torture.

It will be easy, she told herself. Give her back the headphones and be on her way.

Melog let out a drawl, stretching his arms far in front of him before jumping onto his owner’s lap.

“I can’t let myself get hurt again.” His skin was soft under Catra’s fingers as she stroked him. “I know that. But still. What would _old_ Catra do?”

She just didn’t know.

That night, meaningless dreams kept her sleep from being restful. She smelled the scent of Ms. Hope’s distinguished perfumes when over at Adora’s house, heard the classical music playing from speakers. Individual emotions and pictures rattled around the back of her skull like marbles.

When Catra finally woke in the early morning, a dent had settled into her chest. It made her feel restless, uneasy. Perhaps it was the fact that she had 3-day leftovers for dinner, or maybe it was Melog sleeping over her mouth and depriving her brain of oxygen. But there was a sense of purpose that Catra felt that she hadn’t last night. This made her feel like being the bigger person, even if that just meant closure for herself and nothing else.

There was no reason to dress well that day, so she threw a denim jacket over a shirt and leggings. Her hair remained down, wild and uncombed like she was used to. Last night she hadn’t taken out her earrings, so they stayed in.

“I’ll be back later, Melog,” she told her cat while slinging a bag over her shoulder. “Please don’t poop in the bathtub again, okay?”

The cat blinked. No promises.

On the way out, Catra pulled out her phone and wedged it between her shoulder and cheek. The call went right to voicemail, so she sent an email instead. Professional emails were the bane of her existence. Life was much easier when she just texted people without worrying about “being professional.”

It was earlier in the morning than she usually got up. The sun was hardly risen, but autumn chill caused a fog to settle, basking the whole world in what might have been sunrise-colored cotton. Soon, the mist would warm and dissipate, but for the time being it made Catra feel like the only person in the universe. Quiet. Alone. At peace. Except for the gaping hole in her heart that seemed to fill with butterflies when she thought about talking to Adora for the first time in ten years.

The headphones in her pocket really weighed her down.

When 7:15 rolled around, Catra received an email. There were room numbers and times, and at the bottom was a note from Mara. “ _This professor is new just like you, so it’s great seeing you reach out like this. -Mara.”_ Obviously, this wasn’t her _own_ schedule. There was still some time before the end of Adora’s morning class, but this period of waiting didn’t make Catra feel much better. She wasn’t a patient person.

_Thirty minutes away._

_Twenty minutes._

She swung by a drink kiosk to buy something as a peace offering. _Why is this making me twitchy?_ Catra was used to performing in front of thousands of people. She was known for being _the best_. The best she could offer right then was just pretending.

It will be fine, she told herself. Nothing changes.

It took ten minutes to actually find the correct building and classroom on campus, so she got there right on time. _No turning back now. Give her what you came for and leave._ The clock hit exactly 8:20 as her hand touched the doorknob, so she was faced by a few dozens of people standing from their seats. She blended right in, shorter than most of them, and was able to find a chair at the back while students filed out. Bodies blocked her view; the front of the room was only visible several seconds later.

There she was, exactly where she should’ve been; Adora, dress shirt tucked into slacks, working at the buttons on the whiteboard screen. Her back was currently turned.

 _Pretend to be cool,_ Catra reminded herself, putting her foot up on the chair in front of her and waiting. Just waiting. A funny part of her was looking forward to seeing the other girl freak out again, just because it was so over-the-top.

Three minutes passed after all of the students left. Catra was still waiting to be noticed, feeling the coffee in her hand slowly lose its heat. It was a weird bit of intimacy, being alone in the same quiet room together. The only noise that was present was the ticking of the clock and buttons on Adora’s keyboard clacking.

Then she stood, stack of papers in hands, and looked up.

It was _so difficult_ for Catra not to burst out laughing.

The second Adora laid eyes on the other girl, she jumped so violently that the papers in her arms went flying. Just like that, her strict appearance became a disaster. Messy hair, shirt untucked—Adora scrambled on the ground, picking up her papers and cursing. She didn’t look up again, like she thought Catra might disappear if she didn’t look at her.

God, she really was a mess.

Catra stood up from the desk and approached the front of the classroom. She was able to walk confidently, one hand in her pocket and the other holding the cup. Even though there was unease squirming around in her stomach, something calmed her down knowing that Adora can still be bumbling, just like she was when they were kids. Perfect on the outside, not-so-perfect on the inside.

While waiting for Adora to stand up and face her, Catra just stood and watched.

Eventually, all the papers were picked up and stacked neatly into Adora’s work bag, and her computer was folded up. Only then did Adora speak.

“…Can I help you?” She didn’t meet the other girl’s eyes. Her voice was different than it was when they were 14, of course, but had the same softness.

Still trying to keep a straight face, Catra set the headphone pouch down on the table. “You left these when you ran out of the gym yesterday.”

Immediately, Adora’s cheeks turned bright red. She was clearly embarrassed. After several seconds of gears visibly turning in her head, she stammered, “I-I didn’t mean—”

“It doesn’t matter. Here—coffee.”

“You didn’t have to.” She still didn’t look Catra in the eye, and she certainly didn’t take the cup being held out to her. “Take it back.”

“Okay.”

“Wait, no, I…” A huff of frustration left Adora’s nose, and in that moment, Catra knew how she felt.

This _was_ frustrating. Maybe she was just frustrated at how ridiculous Adora was being, but she couldn’t blame her. Of course things were awkward. How couldn’t they be? And what did Catra expect, doing this?

While Catra was deciding on whether or not to leave, the other girl surprised her.

Adora looked up. Her eyes were just as blue as they always had been, strong but just a little sad sometimes. “I know that it was you in the orchestra. And, obviously in the library. And yesterday. I didn’t say anything.”

All this seemed obvious and weird. The thought of Adora going to her concert and seeing her play up there brought on a strange feeling. Catra made a face. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

 _Oh?_ Whatever she had expected from this interaction, it wasn’t that. There was so much emotion behind those words but also uncertainty. This wasn’t something they could just _chat_ about. Things ended bad for them, and that was an understatement. It didn’t mean they had to bring it back up, though.

Adora took the cup of coffee in both of her hands and didn’t mention it wasn’t hot anymore. “It’s not fine. Nothing is. But…an apology feels weird right now.” Bags under her eyes told more than her words did. “I…don’t know what to say or do.”

That made the two of them. The honesty was a relief, though.

Hearing her voice and seeing the crumbling weight of life on Adora’s shoulders made Catra feel bad. She wasn’t sure if this was a welcome interaction—in fact, she was almost certain it wasn’t. It might’ve been selfish to approach like this.

Still, Catra didn’t want to regret anything. She wanted not to feel so nostalgic. That was too much to ask.

“You don’t have to say or do anything.” Okay. Catra put her hands in her pockets and turned to leave.

Behind her, still at the desk, there was a sound of the headphone pouch and rummaging. Then a fearful pause.

“Um,” Adora’s voice shook. “Was there… Did you find anything else with the headphones? Catr— _Catia?_ ”

That was it. Catra pulled one of her hands from her pocket and gently set the plastic ring on the desk behind her without looking. “Catra. You can still call me Catra.”

With nothing else—she left.

But the butterflies stayed.

****

** ADORA’S POV **

“Pick up, pick up…” Adora pleaded into the cellphone at her ear. It rang several times and then went to Glimmer’s voicemail. She didn’t bother leaving a message, and instead tried to call Bow. Nothing.

They were both at work, but she desperately needed a comforting voice right now. Anxiety was about to make her stomach explode because—Catra.

She’d approached her, _talked_ to her. Not yelled. Brought her coffee. It was impossible to really tell what was going on in her head because of how nonchalantly she’d spoken, but Adora didn’t want to know. She’d hoped to avoid her forever and never face the root of all her guilt.

That was too much to ask for. Now, she sipped on cold coffee and tried not to go insane.

It was impossible to focus during her next class. Luckily, most of it was just talking at a slideshow. There wasn’t much opportunity for the crazy to slip out.

 _I should’ve said something else, talked to her._ Adora kicked herself. If Catra had really made the effort to do all that, the least she could’ve done was _not_ throw a stack of documents into the air. And it didn’t even scare Catra away? What kind of person was she to not leave?

It was Adora who had left Catra though.

_What can I do, what can I do?_

She had a few hours until her next class, so Adora crossed the campus to the science building. She had only been to this building twice before but remembered where Perfuma’s lab was well enough. Perfuma was the only person she knew could be around, and she had a steady head on her shoulders. Even if she was unusual.

Perfuma was not in her lab, so Adora went to the only other place she knew. EUAS science campus flaunted a large greenhouse on the roof that was only accessible to professors and specific classes. That’s where Perfuma spent most of her time when not actively working.

The greenhouse door was unlocked. When she walked in, the smell of heat and plants hit her face.

“Adora!” Perfuma, who noticed immediately, was misting some sprouts at a table close to the door. Her hair was down and had a large flower behind one of her ears. “How nice is it to see you here!”

“Hey Perfuma.” Adora felt her nerves calm just a little in the presence of so much oxygen. “Can I…talk to you about something?”

The fact that she would come all the way there to talk seemed to startle Perfuma, who put her mister away.

“Of course. Why don’t you sit down?” She pulled out a nearby metal chair and patted it. “I’m happy you’re coming to me.”

When Adora did sit down, she had to choose exactly how much she was going to share. The only people who really knew exactly what happened were Glimmer and Bow. Now…she wanted to tell Perfuma.

So she did. She told her _nearly_ everything.

How close she was to Catra, the night she was over at her house when they were 14. The call to Catra’s parents the next morning. Running through the woods back to her own house. Seeing the police tape. The screaming, the blaming.

The look on Catra’s face when Adora told her that it was Catra’s fault.

And then nothing—for ten years.

All the while, Perfuma sat with her hands in her lap and skirt blowing slightly in the breeze from one of the fans. She listened very intently, nodding every so often to things she heard. When Adora got to the interaction this morning, she was able to put the pieces together.

Even after the story was done, the other girl was quiet, processing.

 _Oh man, did I over share?_ This didn’t make Adora fidget any less.

Not long after, Perfuma let out a sympathetic sigh and turned to her sprouting plants. “I knew you were troubled, but it makes me so sad you’ve had to go through this with so little support.”

“I have Glimmer and Bow, but they have their own lives and jobs. I never want to be a burden to anyone, but this morning, I…”

“You’re not a burden.” The words were stern, even for Perfuma. “Never think that. What you went through was something no one should have to go through. Losing everyone in your life within 24 hours isn’t something _anyone_ can handle easily.”

“I didn’t lose Catra, though,” Adora tried to explain. She wrapped her arms around her own knees and hugged them to her chest. “I…I said so many horrible things to her. And then I cut her completely out of my life. She wrote me letters and tried to call, but I never responded.”

“Why didn’t you respond?”

She stared sorrowfully at the ground. “Guilt. How am I even supposed to apologize for something like that? Blaming her for something that wasn’t her fault? Being so horrible?”

Strong plant aromas nearly made her head hurt. Most of these plants were fruits or vegetables or herbs used for the botany classes, but all the scents mixing was overpowering. That, and the fertilizer they must be using smelled so musty.

Perfuma was stroking one of the sprout’s leaves like one might pet a tiny bird. “Processing guilt like that isn’t easy. There’s no instant fix or words to make you feel completely sure about yourself.”

“So what do I _do?_ ”

“Catra came to you this morning to return your headphones, and she got you coffee. Right?”

Her eyes stung, but it was hard to tell if it was because of the greenhouse or from frustration. “Yeah. She didn’t seem mad or anything.”

“ _She_ came to _you_.”

If there was an exact point in her words, maybe Adora just wasn’t understanding. It would have been too easy to just start fresh like that. Too easy.

When her friend was silent, Perfuma pursed her lips. “It can be hard to move on from trauma, especially when it’s changed your entire life. But she wouldn’t approach you if she didn’t want to try. What do _you_ want?”

The question was something that Adora didn’t expect. It was simple. What did Adora want? Was she happy with not opening that door again, would she _genuinely_ be okay with that?

“Closure,” Adora answered softly. “The very least that I want is closure. I didn’t get that with my mom, but at least I could with her, you know?”

“The best advice I can give you as a friend is to figure out what needs to be done.” Perfuma stood to place the tray of her plant sprouts back on their rack. “And then find the courage to do it. And you’re the most courageous person I know.”

Adora’s heart squeezed in appreciation for her friend. “Thanks, Perfuma. I appreciate you.”

The other girl smiled. “You’re coming to hot yoga this week, right?”

 _Oh, there’s the catch._ Everything had its price. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

They waved goodbye to one another before Adora left the greenhouse. She felt many different things swirling inside of her, but talking about it seemed to untangle a lot of the threads. There was a sort of determination that she had felt _just a little_ earlier that had grown stronger.

It was time to take back control of her own life, she thought. All of those bad thoughts and feelings had nowhere to go except to stew inside of her. The only way to feel better was to make amends with everything that happened in the past; if that meant bringing Catra back into her life, she would gladly accept it. They may have grown up to be different people, but they shared the same childhood. This was a childhood spent together, sharing so much innocent love.

Adora wanted to remember that.

On the way back from the science building, Adora stopped at the main offices to borrow a piece of paper. She scribbled a note on it, tacked it to the front of Catra’s empty office door, and left.

The ball was in her court now.

The afternoon lecture went better than the last one. Her students were drowsy from Monday classes, so everything was a little more quiet than usual. While the lecture went on, talking and gesturing, Adora allowed her mind to wander just a little bit. The image of her childhood best friend standing just _feet_ away from her, holding a coffee and looking mildly amused, played over and over.

Her hopes weren’t up. They couldn’t be. So much had happened; it would be selfish to think anything would genuinely change between them after 10 years. She had to be okay with that. As Perfuma said, she just had to have the right kind of courage for it.

By the end of her lecture, Adora’s nerves were back. They weren’t debilitating, but _wow_ she was an anxious person. Glimmer and Bow would make fun of her if they could see her right then. Her foot tapped involuntarily as she waited at her desk.

 _Five minutes passed._ The time she’d written on her note was the exact time her class ended, so maybe there was a miscommunication for what she wanted? She’d _thought_ her note was clear…

Then the door opened, seven minutes after the time on the note. Catra came in, looking exactly the same as she had this morning.

She looked around, admiring the portraits of great musicians hanging up on the wall around them. “Took me a second to find the right room,” she explained.

Adora was worried that if she would try to stand up, she’d stumble, so she stayed at her desk. “Sit down.”

“Ooh I feel like I’m back in high school.” Swinging a chair up to the front of the desk, she sat and crossed her legs almost cockily. “The principle knew me too well, if you get what I’m saying.”

“What are you doing here?”

She squinted. “You left me a note.”

“No, I mean…” Adora tried not to act embarrassed, but she had to clear her throat to do so. “Why did you talk to me this morning? You could’ve just dropped the headphones off at my office.” This was true, but if that had happened they wouldn’t be there. She would’ve still been wondering. “It’s been—”

“I know how long it’s been.”

That sentence was a punch in the gut. It wasn’t spoken with cruel intentions, but it might’ve been easier to handle if it was. She might not have to hang her head and clutch her hands to her lap.

Silence was so uncomfortable right then, but it was interrupted by the other girl kicking her shin from under the table.

“How are you?” Catra asked, crossing her own arms. Before then, her expression had been confident and easy, but with that question it changed. Softer maybe? Slightly more hesitant?

It was an equal punch to the gut. “I left. We moved away. That’s why—”

Catra kicked her shin again, sure to leave a bruise that time. “That’s not what I asked, dork. I got over all that other stuff ages ago. Just answer my question.”

The lecture room they were in was just big enough to reverberate. It repeated the words back to them in emphasis, mixing in with more of the clock ticking noises. Perhaps this was all just some horrible hallucination, and Adora would wake up dehydrated on Glimmer’s couch. That may have been easier. How could she have just… _gotten over_ what happened. Was it really just “other stuff” to her?

Guilt made its reappearance. Adora swallowed. “Fine. It’s been a…weird day. Probably for you, too.” The corners of her mouth turned up weakly.

Catra smiled in return. One of her front teeth was chipped a little, but it was endearing. “Now you’re talking like a human, thanks. You put that note on my door. Did you need something?”

_Well, jeez. Now that I’ve got her here, I have no idea what to say._

It would be so nice to just jump out of a window and avoid all this awkwardness. “What do you teach?”

“Strings. Intro, intermediate, advance.” Catra counted on her fingers. From there, she could tell the tips of them were calloused from playing. “And I’m writing the university’s orchestra piece for next year. Not playing unless they need me, though.”

“You’re not part of the symphony orchestra again next season?”

Her eyebrows knit just a little, betraying some upset. “Nah. I’m taking a season or two off, probably more if I like it here.”

Silence for a bit. She clearly loved playing; just having the privilege to see her perform up on the stage last week was something Adora never thought she’d get to see. When they were kids, Catra didn’t seem to have much of an interest in playing a musical instrument. Adora’s mom was the one with the musical background, so seeing her take that kind of a position was a shock to say the least.

“I didn’t know you played the cello,” Adora told her, still hearing music from her concert in the back of her head. “When did you start?”

“High school.”

 _So after I left._ “You’re amazing.”

Catra’s cheeks darkened. All she said was, “It kept me busy,” but then silence.

Unfortunately, Adora understood. After she had left, Catra had probably been in bad shape. She already had destructive tendencies, but with something like that happening… There was clearly a story that Adora didn’t know. There was a gap bigger than they ever planned having in one another’s lives. Questions, too.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Catra observed. “You know, we really don’t have to catch up if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I do!” _Dang it, this is not going at all how I planned._ Back to a bumbling idiot. “I do want to catch up, I do. I just…don’t know how. And I don’t want to leave again.” _Not like last time._

Just being able to be there with her, even if it was awkward and weird, was more than Adora ever thought she deserved. The pain she was feeling, all of it, was a punishment for what happened. She deserved every second of discomfort, she would tell herself this.

“Look,” Catra stood. Some of her wild curls fell in front of her eyes and for a minute, she looked like she did when they were young. “I don’t know what really happened. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But just talk to me, okay? I can go, I pretend this never happened, or whatever. Just talk to me.”

Pleading. That’s what she was doing, that was the emotion in her voice. No anger or resentment, which were both emotions Adora expected. This was far more than she expected, and more than she was worthy of.

Before she could respond, Catra tutted and scratched the side of her head. “That was weird, I made it weird. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, obviously.”

For the first time all day, Adora actually laughed. The ridiculousness of everything made her laugh. She stood as well, coming around to the other side of the desk. “I’d like more time to talk with you and tell you what happened, but I don’t think I can today. For now, I think I’d like to start over.” Her hand extended. “My name is Adora. I work in the music department.”

Shock. Then more amusement, and the other girl took the offered hand. “Catia. But you can call me Catra if you want.”

Just like the sprouts up in the greenhouse, something stirred inside of Adora’s chest. It was small and new, but it was there.

“I’ve got stuff to do, so I’m going to head out.” Catra stuck her hands back in her pockets and looked over her shoulder with a smirk one last time. Her eyes shone. “See you around?”

Just like that. “Yeah, okay. Have a good night.”

Afterwards, the lecture hall was empty except for Adora. There was no telling what was going through her mind. Words and thoughts went back to being blurry as she tried processing the day’s events. Like a Rubik’s cube, things shifted and tried sorting into the right place.

 _Catra doesn’t hate me._ Shift. _She wants to talk to me and know what happened._ Shift _. And I want to see_ her _again, whatever that means._ Shift.

_I don’t deserve this._

Shift.

She drove silently home.

** CATRA’S POV **

On her way from the college, Catra stopped and grabbed some easy groceries for dinner. She didn’t feel like cooking, but if she had fast food or leftovers again her stomach might try to kill her. Maybe Melog would be less neurotic if she shared some fresh chicken with him, too. Anything to distract her from Adora.

For a pathetic moment, she wished that she kept better friendships with the people she played with in the orchestra, because she found herself wanting to talk with someone about what was going on. Just like her stomach, her head was about to explode. She had friends, sure, but she wasn’t much of a gushing type.

But _Adora_.

Almost without meaning to, Catra took a wrong turn going home and instead found herself driving into the wealthier section of town. She didn’t live there, no, but she had left a part of herself there a long time ago when Adora said goodbye. It belonged in the front yard of the old mansion (yes, she would call it a mansion) her best friend used to live in.

A part of her belonged there not because it brought back _good_ memories, but because that’s where it all came crashing down around her.

She pulled up against the curb and let her car idle. The driveway was sweeping, but she could still see the house back there. _Had Adora been living here?_ The “for sale” sign posted on the front gate said no. If this was the case, had it been empty for all those years, or did Adora just now move out of it? So many questions, none of them really made sense to her. Oh well.

She put her car back into drive and left that part of town to go home.

“Melog,” Catra stuck her head from the car two blocks from the driveway, where her cat was laying on the sidewalk. “You’re lucky I don’t cook you for dinner. Get in here.” She opened the passenger side of her door, and the cat begrudgingly joined her. Stupid animal was always escaping from the house and wandering into people’s yards.

They went home together, and she walked to the house with her cat under one arm, groceries in the other. There was an almost 100% certainty she was going to have dreams that night of when she was young. Now that Adora was back in her life (if that’s what it was), she had to decide what she wanted out of this. Friendship, she hoped. If there was anything else in her mind, she had to shove it down.

 _Deep_ down.

Remembering what it was like before nearly hurt. The way that her smile made Catra feel like she just had her breath sucked right from her lungs. How she snorted when she laughed and Catra would always tease her about it, but she worked hard to make her laugh so she could hear it again. And the way that their hands fit together so perfectly.

Losing all of that made Catra feel…blue.

Blue like Adora’s eyes.

** ADORA’S POV **

Tuesday came disguised as a normal day. The morning was cold and misty, trees continuing to turn red with autumn and shaking their leaves into the wind. Even though winter was around the corner, it was hard to process that another year was ending. Especially with everything that has changed.

During her morning class, she had prepared a test for her students so she was able to get work done in quiet. She put all her focus on this instead of thinking about Catra, which was honestly a big thing for her. Being able to concentrate was important. There were so many things going on in her life; a moment of normalcy was nice.

During class, Adora’s realtor had called, so she had to call back when class was out. The childhood home she was trying to sell had only gotten one offer from their first showing, and it was much lower than the listed price. Despite the urge to just get rid of it, she requested for there to be another showing that coming Friday. Her realtor didn’t understand why a young girl like herself was selling such a high-ticket piece of real estate.

It wouldn’t change anything if she knew.

On Adora’s way out of class, she considered seeing if Catra was somewhere around the campus, but decided against it. She wasn’t a stalker. What kind of excuse would she have if she _did_ find her? None.

What kind of hobbies did she have? There was so little she knew about the now-Catra. She probably didn’t like playing with Polly Pocket anymore. Probably not making clay cities for their lego people either. What does she do on her free time, when no one was watching? What kind of music does she listen to?

 _I want to know the kind of person she’s become_ , Adora realized. _I want to be a part of her life again._

But how?

She didn’t see Catra all day on Tuesday, even at the gym when her online class was finished.

Nor did she on Wednesday. Passing hallways, lingering around the faculty offices just in case. The schedules of fellow teachers was available if she really tried looking, but part of her didn’t want to scare Catra off with that kind of enthusiasm.

For then, she was okay with that.

Thursday came.

The morning was colder than the rest of the week had been. She even wore her scarf to work, covering up the ears which were always exposed from her signature hairstyle. Ponytails did not offer a lot of warmth.

 _Catra probably didn’t have to worry about that, since her hair was a lion’s mane of curls._ What kind of shampoo did she use?

Class that morning went by quickly. There was a bit of down time before leaving that she was able to talk with some coworkers about the new music professor’s scheduled and found out that today was her first day. No wonder she couldn’t find her earlier that week; she didn’t even have classes. Catra’s first one that day ended less than an hour after her own.

 _Should I visit?_ By the time Adora asked herself that question, she was already heading to the performance wing of the building, attaching to Etheria Theatre. It was only fair she brought coffee to return the favor from Monday. _Is this what we are? Buying each other coffee and standing around awkwardly for a few minutes before leaving?_ Guess so.

 _Was it rude to show up on her first day of classes?_ Adora was suddenly hesitating. She was outside of the wing, door in sight maybe 30 feet away. Her class was over in just a few seconds; there was not a lot of time to decide.

 _She’s probably busy_. The door opened and students began filing out, carrying instruments in their cases and talking quietly to one another.

 _There’s no reason to bother her._ The last student filed out, door slowly closing behind her.

 _I’ve got to get out of here._ She turned, heart beating wildly in her chest, cursing at herself. This is insane. Why did she have to be so stupid, doing things like this. Maybe she was better off staying out of other people’s business. There was no reason to try like this, no reason to act like she was perfect when the past already happened.

“You stalking me now?”

She froze, whipping her head around behind her like a madman.

Catra stood in the door of the classroom, one hand on a hip. She was wearing a tight black turtleneck over slacks, with heels that could kill someone if she kicked. Her hair was wild, but beautiful.

 _That should be illegal_. Adora felt like she had a big “Boo Boo the Fool” sign stapled to her forehead.

“Not stalking.” She winced. “Just wanted to say hi.”

This made Catra smirk for some reason, and then laugh. “You’re super awkward, you know that, right?”

“Yes, I am well aware, thank you.” At least she was able to admit that. Adora sighed at herself and held out the coffee. “Since you got me some on Monday.”

When they had interacted Monday, it had been embarrassing —and that term was gracious. Between the weird grimaces, Adora being an idiot, and the pauses that lasted too long, it was some sort of miracle they didn’t just decide to never speak of it again.

A miracle that the coffee wasn’t turned away, too.

Catra took a drink and coughed. “Wow,” she cleared her throat a few times. “That’s…really bad. Thank you.”

“Yeah, that’s why I never buy coffee on campus. It always sucks.”

“You’re so sweet.” Her words were a little sarcastic, but when she laughed it was clear she was just trying to tease. Things were still weird—but it was _her_. She was right there, in front of Adora.

Adora wouldn’t have been surprised if this ended up being a dream or hallucination from bad milk or something. But maybe not. The two of them stood in the hallway.

This section was built at the corner of the building on the second floor, overlooking a large portion of the theater and parking lot. Outside, they could see more rain falling from the clouds in what seemed to be a never-ending downpour of autumn. The only time this weather would stop would be when it turned to snow.

“It’s raining,” Adora pointed out, adjusting the strap of her bag.

“I can see that.” Catra was looking out of the same window she was. “Does rain not exist where you’ve been?”

Another pinch to her heart. Adora scrunched up her nose. “I was only a few hours away. Five hours.” Secretly she wished she never would have to admit where she’d been, because that was an easy way to show how she could’ve visited. _Only_ five hours away. There was no excuse.

Catra looked at her sideways, not showing too much emotion. _If she had been, what would she show? Would there be hatred? Resentment?_ They would all be warranted.

Instead—

“I moved back to Greece with my family,” Catra took a drink of her coffee and grimaced, “after high school, for a few years before moving back and finishing college here. So…”

 _She moved to a different country and I didn’t know about it?_ Guilt festered in Adora, so familiar at that point it might’ve manifested into a third arm or something. How could Adora have ever cared about her and left her so easily?

“I said that to make you feel better.” Catra was rolling her eyes when she looked over. “We were more than just five hours away, okay? You weren’t the only one who lef—” She stopped herself.

_You weren’t the only one who left._

Who ran away.

After all the free time Adora spent thinking about this, she still had no way to apologize for anything. The task seemed almost like an impossible one.

The unease inside of her grew so much that Adora had to wrap her arms around her stomach to calm herself down. “…How did your first class go today?”

Almost instantly, Catra perked up. “Really well, thanks.” She looked back into the open classroom at her cello, which was propped up in front of a music stand. “I guess it took teaching to know how many people share the kind of weird obsession with stringed instruments that I do.” She scoffed at herself.

The pain lifted a little. Adora felt herself starting to smile. “How did you find out you liked it so much?”

Catra’s laughter turned into another smirk. There was some unknown look in her eyes, glistening just a little at the other girl. “Not sure.”

Even though it had been a decade since she’d seen it, Adora recognized the look in Catra’s eye and was taken back to when they were young.

_The house was quiet when Adora was alone. She always wondered why there were so many rooms and hallways when it was just the two of them, but her mom didn’t like to talk about her father or twin brother. It wasn’t as though she remembered them. Just sometimes, maybe she wouldn’t be so lonely if there was someone else there._

_“Adora, are you coming?” Catra yelled from the front entryway, swinging herself dramatically across the banister. “You’re such a slowpoke!”_

_“Coming!” She turned her back to the darkened hall and grabbed her backpack before leaving._

_They both ran down the length of the driveway and dove into the tree line, laughing and grabbing onto each other’s hands as to not trip. Despite all the twisted roots and underbrush, they’d run this path so many times it was perfectly memorized. Trees, berry bushes, empty rabbit burrows. When it was good weather, they spent their time playing out there making up stories of grand adventures._

_Sometimes, when it got dark enough outside, Catra would talk about lurking monsters to scare Adora._

_“Beware the Whispering Woods,” she teased, and would tickle her until they were laughing so hard that they couldn’t breathe._

_On the journey that day, the sun was high in the sky and wind was blowing enough to turn the forest into a waterfall of noise. Birdsong could be heard through the noise._

_“Have you asked your mom about sleeping over this weekend?” Catra asked, hopping onto a tree stump and balancing on one foot._

_Adora scrunched up her nose a little and watched her best friend jump back down. “No. She’s had meetings all week, and when she gets home, she’s too grumpy. She’ll say no if I ask.”_

_“Hmph.” Catra took her hand to jump over a brook. “Well, you’re gonna come anyways, right? She probably wouldn’t even notice you’re gone.”_

_Even though this was more than likely true, it made Adora a little sad. “Yeah. Probably. We’ll see, okay?”_

_“Kay.”_

_The rest of the distance was spent in silence. Halfway there, Adora picked up a stick and would swing it back and forth like a sword, knocking bark off nearby dead trees. They only another few weeks of summer left before 6 th grade, so every day had to be spent playing before school took up the weekdays._

_Sometimes, when it wasn’t too hot outside, her and Catra would play a cops-and-robbers type game they made up. Adora would be a princess superhero and Catra would be the bad villain. A chase around the woods would ensue until one of them would surrender. It was their favorite game._

_“I’m Princess She-Ra!” Adora held her stick up to the sky. “And I will defeat the evil Catra!”_

_“Why do you get a cool name, and I don’t?” The other girl climbed a nearby tree and clung unto its lowest branch. “If you’re a princess, then I’m…Lord Catra?”_

_“That’s not really a name.”_

_“Yeah, you’re right. Just Catra then.” She swung off the branch and landed on a patch of moss. “Race you to the boulder?” Without even waiting for an answer, she took off._

_Adora sprinted after, stick sword discarded._

_The race was messy; it scraped up their shins with branches and tangling leave in their hair. At one point, a small deer had been grazing nearby and sprinted away when it heard crashing of footsteps._

_“How are you always faster than me?” Adora whined, pumping her arms to try and catch up with the other girl. Catra just cackled._

_The boulder was in sight. It was nothing special, just a rock with a steep edge that sloped over a patch of moss. They’d made it into their hiding place that summer where they stashed cool rocks, candy and a dirty scarf that they had used once to try and make a swing. That was always the end of their racetrack._

_Adora didn’t make it, though. She tripped on a root sticking out and fell forward, hard. A rock caught on her knee landing and cut a gash two inches long._

_“Adora?” Catra stopped immediately when she heard the fall. After rushing to her friend’s side, she saw the wound and gasped. “That looks like it hurts. Are you okay?”_

_Tears pricked in Adora’s eyes from pain, but she nodded. “I’m fine. I can get a band-aid at your house.”_

_“No, no. We need something for it now. Hold on!”_

_She watched as Catra went to their boulder and began looking around. They clearly didn’t keep any bandages there, but they might not have been what she was looking for. After just a second, she bent down and scooped something up from the rock and stood._

_“Found some!” Her hands were clutched tight._

_Adora wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Found…what?”_

_“Here—” In Catra’s hand was a glob of dirty spiderweb. It wasn’t any bigger than a quarter all wadded up, but she smacked it directly onto the bleeding cut._

_“Ow! Gross, Catra.” Adora whined in pain, holding onto her leg. “That’s disgusting! Why would you do that?”_

_“Don’t worry, this works.” Like she was doing surgery, Catra very carefully plucked a leaf from a tree nearby and patted it onto the bloody spiderweb glob. “I read this in Warrior cats. It’s healthy.”_

_“If my leg falls off, I’m going to be so mad at you.”_

_“It won’t.” As a finishing touch, Catra threw her arms around Adora’s waist and squeezed her in a tight hug. “Mam_ _á can get us the first aid kit at home if the leaf doesn’t work.”_

_The second they stood, the leaf fell. Blood streamed down Adora’s leg into her shoe._

_“Take my arm, Princess She-Ra.” Catra commanded, standing straight and offering her arm. “We’ll walk slower this time. ‘Cause you’re a slowpoke.”_

_They walked together the rest of the way to Catra’s home._

_That night, Catra’s mom was horrified to see what had happened, and took Adora into a doctor where she had to get antibiotics and a few stitches to the knee. While Catra’s genius plan didn’t work, it gave her an excuse to stay a few nights at Adora’s house to take care of her while she was bedridden. They would stay up as late as they were able, tell each other stories and talk about whatever was on their minds._

_Each night, they’d curl up next to one another in Adora’s bed and cross their ankles. Adora would often find Catra looking over at her with a stupid grin, split-colored eyes twinkling._

_Just that smile._

“I’ve got some prep to do for my next class, but you can hang around if you want.” Catra fixed her hair over her shoulder and stepped into the classroom, only pausing to see if the other girl would follow.

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to bother you.” Sudden courage put a spring in Adora’s step. “But my friends and I go to hot yoga on Saturdays and get breakfast afterwards. If you want, you can come.”

“Who goes to hot yoga willingly?”

She laughed, accidentally snorting and embarrassing herself. “That’s what I told them. Either way, you can come. Just let me know and I’ll get you directions.”

“We’ll see.”

The classroom door opened with a creak when Catra pushed on it, but she stopped halfway in. Something about the way her sweater was cut over her shoulders and the studs up the side of her ears caught the light…made Adora’s chest feel strange.

Catra waved. “Thanks for the coffee, princess.” And the door swung closed behind her.

Rain outside the window was letting up. All Adora could do was stare at the closed music room door and try to gather what thoughts she had left.

Everything she thought she wanted got suddenly flipped upside-down.

_“Thanks for the coffee, princess.”_


	4. We Were Young, Once

Hot yoga was not horrible.

There was music playing instead of chitchatting while trying to do a perfect downward dog. With the soft music, Perfuma’s gentle instructions leading the group, and her wearing extra-strength deodorant, it was actually kind of nice. _Relaxing_ , even.

Adora had woken up unusually peppy. She made herself a nice breakfast shake instead of caffeine, even arriving before any of the others got to the gym. They wouldn’t say it, but they all looked surprised at her good mood. It was a good change, one that she needed.

By the grace of some god, Sea Hawk was much less gassy that morning, too.

The prospect of the day was almost exciting. Adora didn’t let her hopes get too high, but what a weight off her shoulders for making that first move. When Adora and Catra had talked that Thursday, she had invited her to join them for yoga and breakfast. Even if she didn’t show up, she had _asked_.

During a stretch, Adora peeked her eyes open and saw Perfuma smiling at her. Yes, her advice seemed to have worked: Figure out what you want to do, and find the courage to do it. That may be easier said than done, but it all took baby steps.

Just baby steps.

After yoga, the group went to Scorpia’s café to have breakfast. It wasn’t far, but they all piled into Mermista’s truck to go. Okay, so Catra hadn’t showed up to the gym. That wasn’t surprising. Just in case, Adora kept her eyes peeled out of the truck window just in case she saw a familiar face.

Back at the café, it was slightly busier than usual. There looked to be more people in the back, though, because Scorpia was able to sit down with them that time and chat. She had her arm around Perfuma the whole time. The way they looked at each other nearly made Adora feel like she was intruding in on private moments.

Glimmer and Bow had that, she thought. Even Mermista and Sea Hawk, as bizarre as they were, had each other. While this didn’t necessarily make her lonely, it just made her wonder. Every few minutes, she’d look past Sea Hawk’s shoulder at the front café door. No one who walked through was the person she wanted to see.

“You waiting for someone?” Mermista took a bite of her omelet. “You’re, like, staring out the windows a lot.”

“Eh, not really,” Adora answered. She shook her head and turned her attention back to the table. “Someone I thought I might run into here.”

“Someone?” One of Mermista’s eyebrows raised. “Is this the same someone we talked about last weekend?”

It would sound weird without knowing all of the interactions Adora and Catra had that week. Adora didn’t want to really explain everything, because it was still bizarre right then.

“Yeah, the same person.” She snorted when both Mermista and Sea Hawk leaned closer. “Don’t look so excited. Seriously. She knew I’d be here, that’s all.”

It would’ve been a lot to ask of Catra to show up to hang out with her and a group of her friends. Adora didn’t really expect her to be there, so she was okay. She was genuinely okay that day. Her friends’ energies were higher, too, probably because they noticed.

When it was time to head out, Adora decided to not ride in Mermista’s car with the others back to the gym. She wanted to walk, smell the fresh air.

A few minutes into the walk, Bow called.

 _“She didn’t come after all, huh?”_ he asked the second Adora picked up.

Why was everyone so invested in this? Adora rolled her eyes to herself. “No, but it’s fine. Really.”

_“Really-really?”_

“Really. We haven’t even talked about anything serious, so it would be kind of a lot for her to have shown up.” Her and Catra hadn’t talked at all since that Thursday. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it loosened so many tangled threads in her head.

On the other end of the phone, Bow sounded almost skeptical. “ _Well alright. You sound like you’re feeling better. Glimmer might need a little more convincing, but as long as you’re happy then I’m happy.”_

Adora was grateful for the people she had in her life. “Thanks, Bow. Tell her I said hi, okay?”

_“Okay, talk to you later!”_

They hung up.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and enjoyed the walk. The sky was cloudy as always, but at least it was warm enough to not miss a jacket.

Now that there was the rest of the day to herself, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Work on more of her curriculum? Go back to the gym?

Ten minutes into the walk, the clouds began darkening. The familiar smell of rain hit the air before it began falling. Not heavy, luckily, but Adora hadn’t brought an umbrella. Curse the day for starting out with clear weather. It had tricked her into thinking it was going to be dry.

“At least it’s not that cold,” she grumbled to herself, picking up the pace.

The rain stirred dust from the pavement. Any people walking on the sidewalks around her fled to the cover of indoors, ducking into shops and underneath awnings. Adora still had thirty minutes left of her walk, though, so she had the privilege to become close and personal with the weather that day. She refused to get an Uber for less than two miles of a drive. That stubbornness was a curse.

The street she walked was not a busy one, so she noticed immediately when one slowed down next to her. Adora’s mind automatically went to the worst possible scenario—before she heard a voice.

“You just going to walk out here in this rain?”

Right before bolting, she turned to see Catra behind the steering wheel. Sunglasses were propped on her head, the cheap kind you could buy at a gas station.

Adora kept walking. Her heart did not stop racing. “I’m good, thank you.” Then she realized, “You didn’t come to breakfast.”

“I figured you just asked me to be polite. You’re going to catch a cold.” Kept driving slow, causing cars to drive around her and honk.

“I wanted you to meet my friends.”

“Just get in the car, Adora.”

Adora stopped, struggling with herself for just a moment before jogging around to the other side and hopping in.

The car itself was nothing special; it smelled woodsy and rich, almost like dark chocolate. An aux cord was plugged in. However, the music was turned so far down she wasn’t sure what genre it was.

For the first minute, there was an awkward silence as they drove. _Why did I tell her I wanted her to meet my friends?_ Adora wondered to herself. It was embarrassing, like openly admitting they were a part of each other’s lives again. That wasn’t her call to make, so why did she say that out loud? Why did she let herself think that?

“So—”

“Don’t say anything.”

Catra’s mouth split into a grin. When she did, the bridge of her nose wrinkled, and it was painfully cute. She always did love to tease.

“Just back to the café, please.”

The windshield wipers on the car slid back and forth as the rain picked up. The sound just added to the ambience, along with a fan and the music that was still turned down. The quiet may have been uncomfortable to start with, but Catra seemed so at ease… Adora began feeling the same way as well.

“What were you doing this morning?” Adora asked, trying to make small talk. God, she was _not_ good at it.

The other girl didn’t seem to mind. “Playing in the park.” Catra pointed her thumb to the backseat of the car, and when Adora turned, she saw the massive cello case wedged onto the seats.

So she played cello in the park on her free time? Adora stored this information for later. The thought of her set up on the stone walkway, face to the sun and playing music for the crowds… During warmer weather, maybe people would stop and spread picnic blankets nearby to listen. Maybe a bakery nearby would be making fresh cinnamon rolls and the smell would linger around the park with the sounds.

This made Adora more longing than she expected. Her eyes lingered on the cello case long enough to notice something sticking out from underneath the back seat. Something long and bald, like a tail—and it twitched.

She jumped in surprise as the tail began backing out and turned into a bald cat butt.

“Did you know you’ve got a cat with you?” Adora asked dumbly.

The cat jumped up onto the center console and then onto Adora’s lap where it started purring like a racecar. It was wearing a little blue sweater with sleeves to cover exposed skin.

“Oh sure.” The cat butted its head on Catra’s hand when she reached over. “This is Melog. He goes everywhere with me. Melog, this is Adora. I told you about her, remember?”

The cat found a piece of plastic in the cupholder and began chewing on it.

Adora felt a laugh coming on, but she held it back into a snort. “You…told your cat about me? You talk to your cat?”

“Of course I do. Melog is a great listener.”

She laughed, actually laughed. It felt good to let it go. Melog settled onto Adora’s lap and she scratched his back. The purring got louder.

“Melog, huh?” Adora crooned. “I’m glad you’ve been keeping Catra company. She needs somebody other than shampoo bottles to listen to her fake arguments.”

They laughed together, Catra tutting, “Rude,” before Adora kept talking.

“I saw a cat just like this in my backyard the other day. Can’t imagine there are a lot of hairless cats around this area.”

“He has a bad habit of wandering outside a lot, so who knows. He’s a little dumb, but all mine.”

Adora petted the cat. It wasn’t ever day she would take a car ride with a cat in a sweater, so she let herself enjoy it. They’d be at the café soon. She would admit she wanted the ride to last a little longer.

“Do you play in the park often?” she asked.

“As often as I can, I guess.” Catra looked sideways at the other girl. Her hair had shifted, making the scarred side of her neck visible. White skin, long since healed, carved shapes across the area. “Soon, it’ll be too cold, and I’ll have too heavy of a workload. I have to enjoy it while I can.”

That was true. Being a college professor wasn’t an easy task, and there certainly wasn’t a ton of free time to do those kinds of things. As fulfilling as it often was, there were times it was _seriously_ exhausting.

“What made you decide to start teaching? Did you always have your degree?”

“Nah. I mean, I’ve had it for a while. Did the first two years of college in Greece and transferred back to EUAS to finish up.” Catra pulled her car into the café parking lot and let it idle. “But the orchestra was a calling, and the thought of being able to travel was cool. So I joined.”

 _Wow._ That story was much more impressive than Adora’s own. The experiences, the whole following-your-heart thing. It sounded like she’d lived just how she wanted to. If she’d loved it so much, why settle?

Adora tried to keep her expression smooth. “And you gave that up? You don’t seem much like a homebody to me.”

“I don’t think of it as giving anything up. Things fell into place.”

When she looked over, there was that wistfulness in Catra’s eyes again. It was something that may be hard to place, and she hadn’t really seen it before. It made so many more questions than it did answers. Catra, however, caught her staring and smiled.

“Destiny is a load of BS, but this all kind of felt like that.” The smile turned into a smirk.

_This feels like destiny?_

Those words…destiny… Adora wasn’t sure what to make of it. Wasn’t sure what to make of the smile, and the way Catra held herself. How could she be so calm, how could she let things happen like that? Why did she give all that up? The girl she used to know was fearless and did whatever came to her. If there was something she want, she got it. So was this what she really wanted?

The car remained idling in the café parking lot for a minute, silence between them.

When did this become what Catra wanted?

“The foster family I was taken into lived five hours away.” The story had to be told some time, even if it was bits and pieces. Adora took these pieces straight from her heart, leaving pits and holes where they used to be. “It was immediate. I wasn’t given the chance to say goodbye, but I…I didn’t ask.”

Melog began cleaning his paws contently, almost like he was listening, too.

Adora still couldn’t look up. “I didn’t even, uh…” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t go back to school for the rest of the year. Almost had to be held back.”

This seemed to be a surprise. Catra ran her fingers through her hair, mussing it up even more. How could she be so effortlessly beautiful? “Did you…get my Christmas card that year?”

_BA-BUMP._

Adora wanted to fold into herself a thousand times until she disappeared. Guilt returned, as black and festering as asphalt on a hot day. It filled up her stomach and lungs until she wanted to gasp for air. _Lie lie lie._

“No, I…” She clenched her fists until fingernails bit into her skin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t.”

It was a filthy lie. Filthy, worthy of a filthy person. A person who would abandon the girl she cared about most in the world without a trace. There was no reason for any of this. She didn’t deserve a happy reunion.

For some reason, Catra let out a sigh of…relief? “That’s fine. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

_A good thing?_

“For what it’s worth,” Catra messed with her hair again, “you look like you’re doing well. You look good.”

That was too much. Much too much.

Trying to calm her shaking hands, Adora picked the cat off her lap and gently set him on the center console where he meowed in protest. “Thanks for the ride. I should probably go, though.”

When the car door opened, rainy wind blew it backwards so fast it nearly slipped from her hand. The weather was its usual nasty autumn. Leaves wouldn’t stay on trees for long if things kept up like this. Then again, they never did.

Adora turned to lean back into the car before closing it. “You’re a good person, Catra. You’ve made good things out of your life. I’m just going to mess that up for you.”

“You won’t, stupid.” Catra looked angry all of a sudden. She stuck her hand over to stop the door from closing. “I know the kind of person you are. Give yourself another chance, okay?”

Wind whipped stray hairs from the other girl’s ponytail. Another chance? Give _herself_ another chance? That hardly meant anything.

“Just talk to me.” The expression twisting Catra’s face was completely unreadable. “At the very least, talk to me. Promise.”

Why did she want that? Why was this so important to her? It had been so long, yet she still clung to what they’d been when they were kids.

It broke Adora’s heart.

She curled downwards like there was the weight of the sky on her shoulders. “Okay. I promise.”

“…Okay.”

The door closed.

Adora slumped across the parking lot to her own car. Took the keys from her pocket with fumbling fingers. The only time she looked back was when her own car door was closed; through the window, she saw Catra watching to see if she made in in safely.

Catra raised her hand in a wave.

She did the same.

_I promise._

CATRA’S POV

“Idiot.” Catra smacked her forehead on the steering wheel of her car after she saw Adora drive away. “Asking her about the card. This is why I scare everyone away.”

The cat next to her put his paws on the passenger door handle, watching the rain as it fell like it was a million tasty bugs flying around. He chittered.

“You buttered her up for me and everything, too.”

Adora clearly wanted nothing to do with her. It was so obvious. Even though Catra didn’t know the real reason behind what had happened when they were fourteen, she’d convinced herself it was something that she’d done. Over and over, the scene played out in her head, followed by ten years of silence. The only explanation. Why did she keep pushing her?

Ever since they were little, she knew Adora struggled with mental illness. Her mom never believed in that kind of stuff, but she always managed to blame horrible things on herself. The dog attack. Being split up in middle school. Her own mom’s death. It was so obvious that this had plagued Adora for her entire life, but Catra had been there for her.

“I don’t know how to help,” Catra admitted to Melog, putting her car into drive and leaving the café. “I’m not conceited enough to think I was the only person there for her, but…”

The cat hopped onto his owner’s shoulders and curled up.

Catra and Adora were always joined at the hip. Their falling out had nearly killed Catra. She had a family supportive enough that she was able to find a good therapist and work through all of those troubles. She doubted Adora sought out that kind of support. She’d shut her out since that fight and hadn’t let her back in. After a while, Catra gave up. She’d given up on her best friend.

“I abandoned her once, Melog.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t do it again. She just needs to know she’s not alone.”

_Mrrreow._

“I sound like an idiot. When did I become an idiot?”

Melog started chewing on Catra’s hair.

“When I started talk to cats, probably.”

The rain continued on for the rest of the day.

Catra didn’t have much planned, other than continuing to work on her curriculum. The classes she taught were all very similar, so the prep work was admittedly easier than she thought it would be. By the afternoon, she found herself pacing the living room in her underwear, trying to get down another few lines of the composition she was working on. Something just wasn’t sounding right about these few notes, but she couldn’t figure it out.

The computer program she used for her composing replayed the part she had over and over. There had to be a fix to it. Was it flat?

She sat down behind her cello and ran her bow across a few of the strings. The sound came out perfect and pure, as it always did. It just didn’t fit…

Back to pacing. Humming. Replaying the program until it sounded like mush, deleting it and starting again.

After too long of this, her cellphone pinged from an incoming email.

[ _a.hope@eternia.edu_ ](mailto:a.hope@eternia.edu) _: What’s your venmo so I can pay you back for gas today? -Adora_

She wants to repay Catra for gas? The thought was silly. It was only a few miles. Catra responded to the email.

[ _c.apostolos@eternia.edu_ ](mailto:c.apostolos@eternia.edu) _: You don’t have to, it wasn’t that far_

A few more minutes passed by, and Catra managed to rewrite a portion of what she’d deleted. Then her phone beeped again.

[ _a.hope@eternia.edu_ ](mailto:a.hope@eternia.edu) _: Please. -Adora_

It made Catra laugh that this girl signed her name after every email. She must be the kind of person who shakes everyone’s hand before and after every meeting. What a dork. It made Catra feel a little squirmy in her chest, and she had to shake it off. Since Adora said please, she may as well.

She sent her venmo information and went back to her cello.

Nothing useful came to her. She played some songs she knew, did her scales a few times, but ended up closing the program. There was no getting around it; her brain was occupied, and not by music.

It was Adora, and the ridiculous $10 transfer to her phone. What she’d said, leaning into the car while getting soaking wet from the rain all around. “ _You’ve made good things out of your life. I’m just going to mess that up for you.”_ Did Adora think that she wasn’t wanted? Like Catra’s life would be better without her in it?

“Stupid…” Catra mumbled to herself, picking up her cat and trudging down the hallway to the bedroom. She wasn’t really good with words or people. She never had been. There had been so many up and down swings in her life, it had taken too long to figure out the kind of person she was. High school was destructive Catra, full of pain and anger and abandonment issues. She’d hated Adora with every fiber in her being for making her _hurt_.

The ache in her heart never went away, but it became tired. _She_ became tired, of hurting.

Catra’s bedroom wasn’t special; she’d only owned the house for a few months and hadn’t bothered with interior design at all. Her curtains and bedclothes were a gift from her mother, the furniture bought at a warehouse store. No thought was given to much any of it, but it was comfortable enough to call home. She didn’t really care.

Melog jumped up onto the bedside counter and tried to push over a jar that was there.

“Stop that,” Catra scolded, scooping the cat up and plopping onto the bed. She didn’t want to reminisce, but it was impossible to help. Her eyes landed immediately on the jar and the hundred paper stars folded into it. The memory came upon her like an ice cube down her shirt.

_It was the spring before high school, and every light in Adora’s massive house was on. Soft classical music could be heard playing from open windows, along with chatter and clinking of glasses that suggested a party._

_“You sure your mom won’t care that I’m here?” Catra hopped over the back-porch rail and padded up next to her best friend. “It seems a little too fancy for me.”_

_Adora opened the back door and glanced around before entering. She was wearing a knee-length grey dress and her hair done up to make her look much older than 14. “It’s fine. Mom can deal with it.”_

_Catra tried to avoid looking at her friend’s bare back. “If you say so.”_

_Once inside, she could see that Ms. Hope had really outdone herself for this gathering. Their house was already showy and expensive, fitting for the executive director of the best symphony orchestra in the country. According to Adora, they had gatherings and fundraisers often, but the point of it all seemed more for flaunting fat wallets than actual music. Asides from live musicians, the only talk of music was what band to pick for Ms. Hodge’s second scandalous wedding that year._

_This was the first time Catra ever went to a function. Adora always said it was too boring, but this didn’t seem boring. There were so many good pranks she could pull…_

_They only made it past the back hall before a sharp voice frozen the girls in their tracks._

_“Adora.”_

_Both turned, knowing they were busted._

_Ms. Hope stood there, towering almost as tall as the ceilings themselves. Her dress only elongated this fact, and her face—nearly emotionless except for the cold._

_“We’re just going to get some food,” Adora tried explaining, crossing her arms._

_“I told you: no friends.” The woman laced her hands perfectly in front of her. “You forget you are the heir to this legacy, daughter. I can’t have my heir sneaking around like a child. Especially not with…her.”_

_Every hair on Catra’s neck bristled, but Adora put her hand on her shoulder._

_“Don’t talk to her like that.” Adora tried to straighten herself up to her mom’s height, despite being significantly shorter. “If I’m forced to go to these stupid parties, at least let me have her with me. You can’t kick her out!”_

_Ms. Hope glanced behind her to the ongoing party, and some of the people there seemed to have cast their attention on them. Fancy people holding champagne glasses, looking for more gossip to spread._

_“Keep your voice down, child,” she snapped. “You’re causing a scene. I can’t afford to lose this quarter’s investors.”_

_“I’ll make an even bigger scene if you make Catra leave.”_

_A vessel popped out in Ms. Hope’s forehead. Just for a second, her perfect demeanor flared in anger. Then it smoothed once more. “Fine. Just please get her some…decent clothing, yes?”_

_As suddenly as she’d appeared, the woman vanished into the crowd, probably for another glass of wine to get through the night._

_Adora snickered triumphantly, grabbing her best friend’s hand and running up the stairs to her room._

_Admittedly, most of the clothes that Adora owned were just a little too big for Catra. Adora was much more athletic and had broader bones, while Catra had stayed scrawny well after hitting puberty. There was no way she’d wear a dress, either. They dug around in the walk-in closet for a bit before finding a suit that Adora wore for a 7 th-grade concert that fit her just fine._

_“Your hair is a little messy,” Adora said, trying to smooth it with her hands. “Want me to try and brush it?”_

_The other girl batted her hands away. “No, no! My hair is a work of art, you can’t just run a brush through it.”_

_Adora’s cheeks turned bright red when she laughed. “Okay. We just have to avoid mom, then, otherwise she might get mad.”_

_When they went to go back downstairs, Catra held out her arm. “May I?” With the wild hair, a chipped front tooth, and bright mismatched eyes, she felt like the prince to Adora’s princess._

_Adora accepted._ _They went to join the party._

_It wasn’t any party they’d really go to on their own, obviously. There was no dancing, no soda, no TV. Catra didn’t even know the names of half the snacks on their buffet table, only that they tasted way too salty._

_“Want to try and steal some champagne?” Catra whispered in her friend’s ear, eyeing a passing waitstaff that had a tray of bubbling drinks._

_“Catra!” Adora whisper-yelled back. “Absolutely not. We’d get in so much trouble.”_

_“I’ve never had some, though!”_

_“I’d have to drag you back home in a body bag if you tried. Seriously.”_

_Catra blew a raspberry in defeat._

_Just like she’d waved a magic wand, Ms. Hope appeared out of the crowd and put her hand on Catra’s shoulder, gripping much too tight._

_“Do not make such vulgar noises.” She leaned down. “I would like to avoid calling the authorities to remove unwelcome guests.”_

_The voice she’d used drew shivers straight down Catra’s spine, but it wasn’t just panic; it was fury._

_Catra yanked her shoulder away from the woman. “You’d call the cops on me just for making a face?” Her voice was too loud, drawing attention again to her from surrounding folk._

_The stillness was terrifying. Part of it might’ve been from the chatter dying down or the glasses being put on surfaces so people could hear the argument. Whatever it was seemed to only make the air more electric. There was no way they could back down now._

_“Catra,” Ms. Hope said, straightening back up, “please step outside. I must speak to my daughter alone.”_

_“But—”_

_“Now.”_

_Her hands shook. Was she going to hurt Adora? What was she going to do? Would she actually call the police?_

_With her best friend on the line, Catra didn’t want to argue anymore. She hid her fists in her pockets and only gave one last look to Adora before sulking out of the party. A hundred eyes stayed plastered to her before the back door finally shut._

_The night was warm, but her lungs were cold. Every breath hurt with worry. She’d never seen that kind of look in Ms. Hope’s eyes before. She’d always been stuck-up and prissy, but never as cruel as this. Catra never had reason to be_ afraid _of her. Adora always assured her that it was just because her mom was trying to uphold her good image, and she wanted Adora to focus on that, but it was impossible to ignore. Normal people don’t act like that._

_She was out there on the back patio for what felt like hours. In reality, only fifteen minutes passed by before the door opened. Adora stormed out, slammed it shut, and grabbed onto her friend’s arm. Even though her head was down, Catra could see she was trying to hold on tears._

_They ran through the yard, climbed the ladder into the tree house, and only then did Adora collapse in Catra’s arms._

_“I’m trying so hard,” she bawled, pressing her face tight against the suit fabric. “I’m trying so hard to be the daughter she wants, but nothing is good enough for her.”_

_Catra immediately put her arms around her, heart breaking to see this kind of pain from her best friend. “What did your mom say? What happened?”_

_“She—” More crying, more shaking. “She said I’m not allowed to see you anymore. That b-being your friend makes me unworthy to inherit her ‘legacy.’”_

_Rage for the kind of horrible things the woman says bubbled even hotter inside of Catra. Her hands found Adora’s hair and gently took the clips and bobby pins out, smoothing it over her back to be more comfortable as she huddled. “You don’t want that dumb inheritance,” Catra insisted. “You never asked for that.”_

_“It doesn’t matter what I want. Nothing matters.” The tears and snot pouring from Adora’s face made a growing wet spot on Catra’s suit shoulder. “She’s not going to let me see you again. She-she tried to follow me out here, but I…”_

_“You what?”_

_“I pushed her into the buffet table and ran.”_

_This wasn’t a good time to joke, but Catra was so proud she nearly kissed her. It was hard enough not to laugh out loud. “You pushed her into the buffet table??”_

_Adora sat up a little, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Those eyes were beautiful, even when red and blotchy. “Um…” She looked away in embarrassment. “Yeah. Food got everywhere, and she ripped the sleeve of her dress.”_

_“Oh my god, Adora.” This was the best thing she’d ever heard. “Your mom is going to murder us. She’s going to rip this tree right out of its roots and we’ll_ both _be in body bags.”_

_“No, I don’t think so.”_

_They both got up on their knees and peered out of the treehouse window. It gave a good view of the side of the house, where lights were on. There were no signs of her mom or of any police. It was almost…peaceful?_

_Adora sat back down and began trying to wrestle her fancy dress off. The hem had a splash of punch on it and had been torn. “She wouldn’t risk her reputation to chase me into a treehouse. She’s probably inside right now making the house staff clean everything up and prepare more food while she changes.”_

_“Your mom is insane.” Catra had to avert her eyes as the other girl threw the dress out the treehouse window and started tugging on a dusty nightgown from a chest. That thing must have been in there for a month, and it definitely smelled like it._

_They sighed together; neither of them mentioned it, but going back inside was clearly not an option. It wasn’t the first time they had to sleep in that treehouse, so there were enough blankets to make do._

_Sleep didn’t come easy. The wooden playhouse around them creaked and groaned, surrounded by rustling of spring wind. Despite the days getting longer and warmer, the nights weren’t as comfortable._

_Catra drifted near the edge of consciousness for an unknown period of time, before something woke her. First soft, barely audible. Then it became sniffling and whimpering._

_Adora was shifting in her sleep, tossing and shaking her fists against the other girl’s back as they lay like spoons under the blanket. It was nightmares, as she always had. And, just like always, Catra turned onto her other side to face her best friend, taking her shoulders in her arms._

_“Wake up, Adora,” she yawned, nudging gentle. “It’s just a nightmare.”_

_Nightmares were evil, she knew. Especially Adora’s, which consisted of more reality than they did fiction. Between the bullies in school, her abusive mother, and the pressure of the future coming together in a head…of course she’d have these bad dreams._

_Adora whimpered a few more times before opening her eyes. It was like opening flood gates to a dam, causing tears to spill sideways down her cheeks._

_“I want to go inside,” she whispered. “I want my bed.”_

_“Okay, okay.”_

_Still sleepy, they both tottered down the ladder of the treehouse, stumbled across the perfectly manicured lawn, and to the porch. One of the lights was still on, moths fluttering close. Everything about this was still and eerie. No signs of party, nothing left over but emptiness._

_“It’s locked.” Adora had her hand on the doorknob. Her body began trembling even more. “The door is locked.” Trembling turned into shaking, almost too violent to stand. “Catra, she locked me out. She locked—”_

_“Hold on, dummy. Let’s try the other doors.”_

_Despite her trying to act cool, Catra was upset. No, upset wasn’t the right word. There weren’t any right words. All she could see and feel was blinding red._

_They walked the perimeter of the house in just socks, testing windows and doors and even trying to climb one of the lattices up to the second story. Nothing was successful. Every way they turned, there were locks and bolts and shut curtains. Pounding on the door didn’t seem like a good option, as it would only anger the dragon behind it. Or trip the security, calling the police and creating a bigger mess._

_There weren’t a lot of choices. The situation turned from miserable to scary; they were two small 14-year-olds trapped outside past midnight. Nighttime was too dark._

_“Let’s go back to my house,” Catra offered, trying to sound brave._

_Adora turned and stared into the forest. A black void stared back, unwelcoming. “It’s…it’s so dark, though. What if there are animals?”_

_It was almost impossible to pretend she wasn’t scared, but Catra knew she’d do anything for Adora. She missed her smile every second it wasn’t there. She took her friend’s hand, went back to the treehouse, and retrieved a flashlight. All they’d ever done with that light was read books, not walk a mile through dense, unpopulated woods._

_“Don’t worry, okay?” Catra took Adora’s hand again, squeezing it tight like they did to one another when they were scared or worried. “You’re always protecting me. Now it’s my turn.”_

_There was slight hesitation from Adora before she rubbed her eyes and nodded. Despite being taller and more built that the other girl, she seemed so much smaller right then. Catra was happy to make her feel protected. To make her feel safe._

_They used the flashlight and followed the trail through the woods._

_Every tree and shrub looked different in the darkness. When only lit by the single light beam, shadows brought the forest to life. Nocturnal creatures chirped and rustled, but they were fortunate to have no serious disturbances before happening upon the gravel driveway of Catra’s home. She’d done exactly what she said she would do._

_Her own front door was locked, too, but there was a key stashed safely behind the porch light sconce. Finally, they were safe._

_The Apostolos house smelled of fireplace and leftover dinner. Certainly less sterile than Adora’s, but that made it so much more welcoming._

_Even inside, they didn’t let go of each other’s hands. Catra took Adora back to her room, careful not to wake her parents that snored from the room over. The thought of coming from a place of so little love made Catra’s motivation that much stronger. If she had to be the only person Adora could rely on in life, she would be that person._

_This was the purpose behind it all, the Achilles heel of her tough-guy act._

_It’s why she helped Adora dress in clean pajamas, sat her in bed and brushed all the twigs and leaves from her hair (using her mother’s brush). The time was late enough in the night to call it morning, but they were safe. Adora was safe, in under Catra’s blanket, asleep against Catra’s pillows. How it should be, in her mind._

_Before following her to bed, the other girl pulled a strip of paper from a jar on her nightstand, wrote that day’s date on it, and folded it into a perfect origami star. This star was dropped into a jar, and only then was she able to crawl next to Adora and close her eyes._

_Sleep came easier that time, only Adora on her mind._

Just as it had come, the memory slipped through Catra’s fingers. She sat there in her silent bedroom, holding her jar of paper stars. It was _years_ old. Twelve years? Maybe thirteen? She wasn’t sure when the first star was made, but they were all similar. Each with a date on it, each star a moment that she loved Adora just a little more.

When she was young, she’d imagined filling the jar and giving it to Adora when she was brave enough. Adora would open a star and Catra would be able to tell her what happened that made her fall so hard for her.

Of course, they were kids. It was love, but had she been _in_ love?

And why did she even keep this jar, if not to torture herself? Catra put the jar back on her nightstand and went back to the living room.

The night was getting darker. She pulled back the curtains, pushed the window open, and sat her cello in front of it. Just like that, Catra played her music for the stars that she wished on so long ago.

ADORA’S POV

For the first time in a long time, Adora found herself with enough emotional capacity to actually process what happened Saturday. She went through the usual feelings of guilt and frustration, of course. How stupid she felt standing in the rain, telling Catra to forget about her when Catra was looking at her like she was crazy. The whole thing was crazy.

She went to the gym on Sunday, working herself too hard to feel anything other than muscles burning. It helped center her. To know what was important. 

After her earliest Monday class, Adora made herself comfortable in the professor’s lounge close to the offices. She’d been talking with a guidance counselor about one of her students and didn’t feel like going all the way to the library to wait for her next class. The chairs there weren’t nearly as comfortable.

The coffee maker hissed and bubbled on the counter behind her, but she’d already maxed out her caffeine intake going through all the realtor’s notes from the showing last Friday. She’d received more than one offer this time; there were too many people to sort through. It was difficult trying to imagine another family taking over that house, especially with its dark history. Imagining a family gathering for the holidays that had smiles and warmth and light…someone looking out the same windows that she looked out of when locked in her bedroom without dinner.

People—strangers—wanted to buy this house that Adora wanted to get so far away from. She should be relieved to get rid of it. However, her nails were bit to the quick over it.

“Why are you so easy to stalk?”

Adora nearly jumped straight out of her chair at the sudden voice behind her.

“Skittish, too.” Catra was standing at the lounge sink, unscrewing the lid off a jar. “Were you always that skittish?”

An unwelcome pounding of Adora’s heart made her flustered. How come she always managed to look like the world’s biggest idiot at the worst times? She turned away to scowl into her laptop. “Maybe you shouldn’t be purposefully scaring people who are busy.”

The other professor was wearing a red blouse tucked into high-waisted dress pants. As usual, hair covered the scarred side of her head. Adora wondered why she was so intent on keeping it hidden.

When Catra laughed, her teeth looked sharper than usual. “You’re too easy to scare. Why are you in here instead of the library?”

The library was quieter than the professor’s lounge, certainly; in there, people came and went since it was much easier to cut through the room than to go around.

“I had to talk with an advisor,” Adora explained, not looking up in fear of her cheeks turning red. _There’s no reason to be acting like this_.

A few minutes went by, Catra making something at the counter and Adora absorbed in her decision making. People passed through the room.

How was she supposed to choose? Her realtor told her to pick the highest offer—that was the easiest answer, right? But money wasn’t an important thing, and it couldn’t be that easy. It couldn’t just be a single choice.

The only people who really knew what it was like in that house was her and Catra. That was it.

She looked over at the woman at the counter, who was stirring something. Catra held herself so confidently, so easily. It was enviable.

“Hey, Catra?”

She looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. The wings of her eyeliner were flawless. “Hm?”

“Do you have a second?”

The double-take was almost comical. Catra stuck her stirring spoon into her mouth, a familiar motion; when they were younger, she’d always do that after making hot chocolate or eating pudding. She smirked around the spoon before pulling it out.

“ _Adora_ asking _me_ if I have a second? She wants _my_ company?”

“Don’t be a brat.” Adora found herself smiling back, and her fight against butterflies was immediately lost. “I just…you’re the only one who I can talk to about this.”

A group of professors passed through the lounge, some of them casting glances at the two other girls in. None of these people were recognizable, so Adora didn’t pay attention. It was hard enough as it was.

“It’s about the house.”

The air got a little more serious, and Catra stopped her teasing expression almost immediately. This was the only other person in the world who knew what life was like for Adora living there—the third person had died years ago. No one would understand Adora’s struggle in her decision, and _certainly_ her realtor didn’t.

Catra put her work bag and mug onto the table before sitting down. “You’re selling it, right? That’s a lot of cash.”

“I don’t care.” It was a _lot_ of money, but it was money Adora didn’t want. “I just want that stupid house gone. If it were up to me, I’d burn it.”

The sentiment was dramatic. Luckily, Catra understood. She put her chin on her hand. “I’ve got a class in a bit, but what do you need me for?”

 _Moral support?_ That was too dumb. Someone to tell her she was doing the right thing?

Comfort? Was she looking to be comforted?

Adora rubbed her eyes and groaned, grateful that she chose not to wear makeup that day. “I don’t know. I wish this wasn’t my decision to make. I didn’t even know she’d given it to me until the bank called last year. And now, all of a sudden, I have to remember everything that happened and choose to make it someone else’s problem.”

“Remembering the bad things isn’t a _bad thing_.” Pulling out a granola bar from her bag, Catra decided to make herself comfortable. “I know I can’t say much because I don’t know exactly what happened, and I haven’t been through everything that you have. _However_ ,” she stuffed the entire bar in her mouth, “everything that’s happened has brought you here, hasn’t it?”

 _Everything that’s happened…_ Adora couldn’t bring herself to look up. It was funny hearing such wise words from the others girl’s mouth, even if it was muffled by granola bar. They would always joke about Catra’s wild and flippant personality when younger; to hear her say something so introspective was a change.

“It’s easy to say that,” Adora responded quietly. “That doesn’t make anything any better. It doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“Of course it doesn’t. But are you going to give it the power to control you the rest of your life?”

She looked over.

There were crumbs on Catra’s chin and maybe her eyeliner wasn’t as perfect as it had looked before. Her blouse a little wrinkled. Very Catra, still, after all those years. Things ran through her mind she wanted to say, but didn’t.

Her childhood wasn’t good. She abandoned Catra without so much as a “goodbye.” Guilt turned her inside uglier than she could deal with sometimes, and yet…

Everything that has happened brought here there. Back to Catra. How come the other girl hadn’t left?

“Even if I could choose the offer, it would just open another can of worms in my life.” Maybe Adora had _too much_ caffeine, because each emotion was just a little too intense. “I don’t have the deed with me. It’s locked up in a bank somewhere, and I honestly…don’t even know what bank.”

The confused look on Catra’s face asked the question.

“I know, I know. The trustee has all the information and I’ve chosen to politely ignore them for the last few years. Everything I received in her will, I haven’t even touched.” Adora was embarrassed at all the faces the other girl was making. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” After finishing that sentence, she breathed. _Had she not breathed that whole time?_

Catra blinked, and for some reason, it looked like she was on the verge of smiling. Why was she smiling?

“Sorry, I don’t mean to vent.”

“No, it’s fine.” Catra’s smile reached her eyes. It looked too soft. “I forgot how much you talked.”

“Sor—”

“I missed it.”

Heat flushed Adora’s face. Something was happening, and she didn’t know what.

After so much time, things began colliding into place one by one. Nothing had correctly processed before she’d gotten there to her childhood city.

Maybe it was time to accept time had passed between the person she used to be and the person she was then. Time had passed. Maybe Catra had forgiven her, but she had to forgive herself. That all started with being honest.

“I guess I should tell you what happened,” Adora said. She kept her voice quiet and didn’t meet the other girl’s eyes. “I felt—”

“No.”

She closed her eyes for a second, giving relief from the bright screen of her laptop. Her other senses turned up, but all they felt was the stranger’s shoulder press against her own and a smell of unfamiliar shampoo.

Catra had come close. “Not here. You have a short day tomorrow, right?”

Adora’s mouth bobbed open and shut a few times when she looked over. Like a fish. “Yeah, I mean. I’ve got an online class in the afternoon.”

“Great. Do you still like Korean food?”

“I—” _What is happening?_ “Sure, I do. But—”

“Don’t be weird.” Still insanely calm, Catra stood up from the table and slung her work bag over her shoulder before scribbled something on a scrap paper. “It’s not a date. Be there at five, okay?”

A little person inside Adora’s head was banging pots and pans, repeatedly yelling “ _PANIC PANIC PANIC”_ so all she could do was nod. Snatch the paper with both hands.

“Have a good rest of your day.” Throwing up a peace sign, Catra then just sauntered out of the lounge room without a care in the world.

Leaving Adora to scream silently into the void.

CATRA’s POV

Catra spent the next 24 hours trying to be calm and collected. She was usually really good about controlling her feelings, but she wasn’t sure how to deal with this. Why in God’s name did she say that it wasn’t a date?? Who _says_ that?

Her classes ran smoothly, by some good fortune, and she was able to keep herself collected until getting home that evening. It was times like those she wished she’d tried harder to make friends, because there weren’t too many people to call when she needed to talk. There was always Entrapta, the girl she’d accidentally befriended in college after giving the entire sociology department computer viruses. They didn’t talk often, though, and Entrapta wasn’t very good at dealing with these types of emotions.

“I’m doing _great_ ,” she told Melog over dinner. The cat napped on the dining chair next to her. “My therapist would be proud, I think. The last ten years of trying to get over things have really paid off. Did I tell you Adora and I are going to talk over dinner tomorrow?”

Melog purred a little in his sleep.

 _I’m going to make myself crazy_. The cellphone in front of Catra started ringing, so gratefully picked it up. “ _Mam_ _á? What are you doing up so early?”_ Her Greek was rougher than it used to be, not practicing as much.

Her mom, who lived back with the rest of her family in Greece, shouldn’t be calling when it was much too early in the morning there. However, she was relieved to talk with someone other than her pet.

 _“Oh I’m glad you picked up, Catia.”_ Her words over the other end of the phone were a thick purr, comforting as a mother was. “ _I’ve heard on the news that there’s a big storm headed in your direction. I just wanted to make sure you’re going to be safe.”_

“ _I’m_ fine.” Catra picked a piece of burnt cheese of the side of her plate. “ _It’s always raining here. Don’t worry yourself over the weather.”_

As her mother did, she worried over every little thing. She’d always cherished her only child, which was both endearing and annoying to Catra sometimes, but the incident with Adora’s mom made her so much more anxious. Maybe that’s why she and Adora got along so well; they were both horrible worry-warts.

“ _Is Bamp_ _ás doing well?”_

_“Oh he’s just fine. Still playing in his little band every weekend, staving off the arthritis. I keep telling him to take care of the old bones he has left, but he never listens.”_

Catra chatted with her mom for a while, holding her phone with a shoulder while putting her dinner dishes away. They had a good relationship, but the one thing she hadn’t shared was eating away at her insides. The one thing she wanted to talk about.

 _“Hey, can I ask you something?”_ She interrupted her mom’s current train of thought about market prices.

 _“You can ask me anything,”_ her mom answered, noticing the change in tone.

“ _Do you…remember Adora?”_

 _“Of course I remember her, such a sweet girl. What a silly question, do I remember her_.” Her mom laughed like she’d said something hilarious. “ _You were basically sisters. What a tragic thing to happen to her, so young.”_

Even though the “sisters” thing made Catra cringe, she agreed. “ _I found her.”_

Silence on the other end of the phone, and she went to go sit down on the couch. Her cat hopped onto her legs.

 _“Not really_ found _her, but she works at the university now. She’s…”_ Still beautiful, messy, impossible to deal with sometimes. _“She’s doing well.”_

“ _Catia_ …” The tone of her mother’s voice was warning, “ _I know you’ve got such a big heart for her, but trauma changes people. I do not want you getting hurt again. High school was not a good time for you.”_

“ _Yeah_.” This wasn’t what Catra wanted to hear. _“But it’s still her. And she wants to talk to me.”_

_“Just be careful. Protect your happiness.”_

_Sheesh._ Almost every phone call she had went like this. Nothing about taking risks or following her heart. To be fair, that may be more annoying that helpful though. Catra let out a little sigh. “ _I’ll tell her you said hi. Try to get some more sleep?”_

“ _Okay, Catia. Take care.”_

_“Bye Mam_ _á.”_

They hung up.

No part of that five-minute phone call made Catra feel any more certain. She knew Adora must be feeling a similar way, somewhere across town pacing grooves into her floor. There didn’t seem to be an easy way to tell her she wanted to be in her life again. No easy way to convince her to forget everything that happened and start from zero. Oh, she could tell herself that she’s moved on and healed. What Adora had said earlier was right, though: positive thinking doesn’t make what happened go away.

And if Adora didn’t know how Catra felt about her… She said she didn’t get the holiday card she’d sent that year when they were fourteen. The shaky “I love you” written inside of it. At least, Adora said that she hadn’t gotten it. She wasn’t the kind of person to lie.

So many questions. Catra wanted to ask them all.

“Tomorrow, huh?” She scratched her cat’s soft wrinkles. “Life has waited this far to make any sense. I guess we can wait another day.”

It proved more difficult than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be worth mentioning that I have VERY limited knowledge about orchestra corporate structure. So let's pretend it's all accurate, because there are absolutely errors.  
> Also, thanks to everyone for reading and commenting!!


	5. The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING: child abuse/ depression  
> If you're uncomfortable reading this, please reach out to me and I'll summarize what happened in this chapter. It's the first step to healing for them though!

Waiting another day was torture.

Looking around every corner hoping to see Adora was torture.

Getting dressed for dinner was _torture._

“ _This isn’t a date,”_ Catra mocked herself in front of her bedroom mirror. Nothing felt right on her skin. She wanted to do something with her hair but didn’t want the scar showing, so she was forced to feel uncomfortable about it. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t this kind of girl.

She thought back to her junior year of undergrad, the last real relationship she’d had. It was fine. Safe, comfortable. That was the first year that she truly felt she could handle caring for someone outside of herself. High school was wild enough; her mom was right, she was in a bad place and nearly didn’t graduate. When she found herself, she thought that someone else in her life could make her feel complete.

That was the first and last serious relationship she’d tried. After that, she kept herself too busy to care. She didn’t go to bars or clubs to meet strangers looking for a good time. She didn’t let what few friends she had hook her up with anyone. She stuck to herself. It was safe. Easy. People tried and failed to force themselves into her life, so she developed a look-but-don’t-touch reputation.

That being said, this was the first time that Catra had real feelings since then. And these weren’t just feelings.

This was Adora. _Her_ Adora.

Catra put on her earful of piercings, a pair of black jeans and a sweater under her raincoat. Casual. _Act casual,_ she reminded herself. This was the first time Adora had wanted to speak with her in ten years, and the situation had to stay appropriate to her feelings. After all, she had no idea where she was at in her healing process. Catra had been a bad friend before. She wasn’t going to do that again.

All that time changing clothes and arguing with herself made Catra twenty minutes late to the restaurant. Drizzling rain plastered her hair to her head, and she was certain she looked like some rabid wet dog. Super cute. Luckily, the restaurant was empty enough for few people to pay attention. Handful of waitstaff, smells of steaming barbeque pork pulling her right in.

Adora sat at a table in the corner, one leg crossed over another and looking pensively out the window. Her foot bounced up and down nervously. A bike helmet, purse, and folded coat sat at the adjacent chair.

It made Catra feel stupid, but her chest squeezed with nostalgia. The ten years away felt like ten minutes. She saw the girl she grew up with sitting at the table. Why did she let her slip away?

“You know you could’ve ordered food without me?” She sat down in the chair across from the other girl and grinned when it scared her. “Hope you haven’t been here long.”

“You’re half an hour late,” Adora answered, scowling. Just like when they were young, her sternness was a defense mechanism for when she was scared. They both knew it.

“I had trouble getting out of the house. Are you feeling okay?” _Dumb question._ Catra was trying to pretend she didn’t understand her body language, maybe to make her feel better.

The atmosphere was so nice and relaxing, but it didn’t seem to calm Adora down. She held her cup of water with both hands and drank through the ice. “Sure. I’m not going to eat, though. Stomachache.”

If it was caused by stress, Catra knew what she felt. She’d imagined their reunion a thousand times in her head, but this wasn’t much like any of those dreams. Most of the time she’d pictured seeing Adora’s face in a crowd while she was performing. She’d find her after the concert and buy her a drink, maybe stay there too late but still text in the morning when they woke up.

Catra had kept her life so busy that she’d forgotten what it was like to yearn.

“You should still order something just in case you change your mind.” The corner of her menu was stained with sauce. “How about the barbeque beef bowl? Or maybe just a side of lavender rice?”

“I really don’t need anything.”

“Pork buns?”

“Catra,” Adora’s body curled in on itself. Her whole face was screwed up, and despite being burlier, she looked small right then. “I’m making myself sick with this. The anxiety is killing me. How can you be so calm about everything?”

Therapy was the easy answer. The not-so-easy answer was that she _wasn’t_ calm about everything.

Catra sobered the jokes up and closed her menu. “Sorry. I thought it would make you feel better.”

At least the honesty made Adora look less upset. “It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. For anything. I, uh…” She shook her head. “Let’s order first.”

When their waiter came around, they ordered a few things and some ginger ale to calm Adora’s stomach. The first several minutes were just spent throat-clearing to fill the silence. Chatter in the background set the tone. Despite being dinnertime, very few people were in and out of the building. The few guests didn’t provide much for Catra to look at while waiting for Adora to feel more comfortable. She wasn’t going to tell herself it was a bad idea to come. It was going to be worth it, no matter what came out of the meeting.

Every so often, she would look over at Adora and see her staring down at her hands on the table. She had finished growing up without her, and that broke Catra’s heart. The shape of Adora’s face had become hard and defined; despite her age, she looked so tired. Maybe it was selfish for Catra to want to be in her new life, but she was going to ride this as far as it took her. She didn’t want to give up again until Adora told her to.

At least the food was good.

After a while, Adora let out a sigh of resignation over her rice. “Well. Okay. I guess I didn’t ask to meet just to sit here awkwardly.”

“ _I_ asked _you._ ”

A small smile brought the corners of her lips up, but it was halfhearted. “I know. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t…” she trailed off before sighing again. “This feels so strange.”

It did. Catra felt it. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s okay. I’m not going to force you to say anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I want to, though. I just don’t know how.”

“Can I start by asking you a question?”

Adora pulled her eyes upwards. Something about the warm lighting made her look ghostly, but she flipped somersaults in the other girl’s chest. “…Like what?”

 _Say something. Use words to form a sentence._ So many questions floating to the surface of Catra’s tongue like bubbles, bursting before she could speak. Their waiter came to take the dishes away and refill glasses.

“It’s selfish of me to wonder, but after what happened back then,” she took a sip of water to help the dry, nervous question, “do you hate me?”

__

__

__

** TEN YEARS AGO **

_Tap tap tap_. Adora’s pencil hit her notebook in a rhythm. This September evening was a warm one, and she spent it in the study doing homework with Catra. Well—she was doing homework while Catra made a flipbook from sticky notes. She had her MP3 player plugged into a speaker while they worked, playing some early-2000’s alternative song. It was quiet enough so her mother would not hear; ever since an incident at a work meeting a few months back, her mom had been put on medical leave and was home nearly every day.

Daily routines swung between good and bad. The good days made Adora suspicious, but the bad days made her miserable. For now, Catra was allowed back over to the house as long as they stayed out of Ms. Hope’s way. They walked on eggshells constantly, but right at that Saturday afternoon, things were peaceful.

Piano could be heard playing softly from the music room. Best of all, she had Catra there with her.

“You decided if you want to go to Homecoming yet?” Catra left her desk chair to lounge on the loveseat there. “There are lots of guys dying to ask you, I’m sure.”

Adora rolled her eyes at her best friend from over her textbook. “Gross. Have you seen how teenage guys dance? I don’t want to be anywhere near that.” She turned her attention back to the work, so she didn’t see that the other girl had started to fidget.

“Yeah, it’s stupid. But, like, if you want to go, I’ll go too. So you’re not bored.”

It had always been the plan. In middle school, they’d gone to all the functions to make fun of people who go to functions. Every time, they ended up having a blast. Homecoming was different—they were in high school now. Everything was different. Something about it fluttered Adora’s stomach, the thought of going with Catra.

“They’re not going to let you in if you don’t wear a dress, you know.” The principal of Catra’s high school was old and mean, and there was no getting around the outdated rules. “You sure you don’t want to come to mine?”

Catra raised her eyebrows, but the face quickly changed to a playful grin. “You asking me out to Homecoming, Princess?”

“Well, we always go to those things together.” Adora turned away to avoid the fluttering feeling. She didn’t understand it. “If you want to go, I need to submit the guest paperwork soon.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“You’re going to have to bribe somebody to let you in, then. Your principle might be a misogynist, but this dumb private school is so hoity-toity, all of the girls have to wear dresses to,” Adora stiffened her upper lip, “maintain their image.”

“I’m going to stick my finger in every one of the cupcakes there.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Catra’s mouth opened in another witty retort, but something stopped her. A voice calling from the far end of the hallway. Her mom, calling for her.

The usual sense of dread Adora felt when thinking about her mother piled onto her throat like bricks. She slid off the desk chair and made a face to Catra before leaving. “I’ll be right back.”

This was what her life had become.

Her mom had never been warm and fuzzy, but something seemed to change with her in the springtime and they didn’t know what. She grew colder, more distant. Her mood swings became violent and words were used to cut deep into her skin. The harshness of her scolding turned to screaming. Insulting. There were not many people that were higher ranking than her at work, but she was put on a mental health leave to take a break. This only meant more time to terrorize the person she lived with.

Adora sulked all the way to the music room, already bracing herself.

The room was open, piano music floating through. Few notes were repeated, adjusted before moving on. This was where her mother sat, at the piano bench, staring at a half-finished composition on the sill. At one point, this room had been completely spotless. Now it was filled to the ceiling with books and papers and old worn boxes. Spare music stands leaned on their sides against instrument cases.

The dishevelment matched Ms. Hope’s own appearance.

“You called for me?” Adora stopped in the doorway and crossed her arms.

The woman turned. Her eyes were sunken deep into her skull, lips dry like she hadn’t had water for days. Nothing about her was settling.

“Adora,” her mom moved some sheet music from a stool nearby. “Sit by me.”

The request wasn’t much, but Adora was cautious as always. She noticed the tone wasn’t as scary as expected, but this made her much more suspicious. So she sat.

Piano keys chimed when tapped, rolling like a wave inside of the open body. From that angle, the strings and hammers were visible. Ms. Hope pulled two sheets onto her stand at eye-level.

“Tell me which one you like better. This one,” she played fifteen seconds of a piece, “or this one?” Another fifteen seconds, but with heavier use of the flats.

 _She’s asking my opinion?_ Adora was surprised. She was hardly ever let into this room, nevertheless allowed in on her mother’s compositions. It felt like a trap. What if she said the wrong thing?

Adora tried to straighten her posture. “…The first one?”

The first series of notes were played over, and they morphed into a longer piece of the composition. To Adora, it sounded hollow and melancholy, like someone singing into an empty theater. Beautiful and haunting at the same time.

Ms. Hope continued to play her music, not looking at anything but the keys. “I can’t wait for you to grow up and join me at the orchestra. We were made for this, you and I.”

Each of those words punched Adora in her heart. Never had her mom spoken gently to her. Was this another swing of hers, or did she mean it? Saying these things was unfair to Adora, who longed to have the kind of familial love that her best friend did.

“I believe in destiny.” Ms. Hope closed her eyes. Continued to play. “You’ve got my blood in your veins, child. You will take over for me when I’m gone and do great things.”

Adora wanted to run.

This was worse than any screaming. She didn’t believe what her mother was telling her, of course she didn’t. It was just as hollow as the piano music she was playing. False hope was pointless and cruel, especially for a child who never knew the real feeling. She shook on her chair. If there was an opportunity, she was going to leave and go back to the study.

There wasn’t, though.

Ms. Hope stopped playing for a moment and looked up. Her eyes still stared straight ahead, not to her daughter. They were glossy. When she spoke, her tone had changed. “It’s a shame you’re useless on an instrument. To think, a child of mine taking over for me, with no talents.”

There it was. The punch line, the low swing. Adora swallowed, knowing what comes next.

The woman kept staring ahead, kept talking, but it was almost as though she was addressing the thin air. “Embarrassing. You’re useless.” Her eyes finally peeled away and locked onto Adora’s. Still, hollow. “You’re going to have to work a hundred times harder to earn respect. You must uphold our good name. There are no other options in your life. This is what you were made for.”

A tiny voice in the back of Adora’s head felt that something was wrong. Something was horribly, deeply wrong. It wasn’t quite nearly indescribable, but she held her ground. “I’m good at other things,” she said softly. “I don’t have to—”

“Silence!” Ms. Hope stood up so violently in knocked her seat backwards. She slammed her hands onto the grand piano with an ear-splitting crash.

The action was so violent and sudden, Adora instinctively scrambled away. Her heart beat so fast in her chest she couldn’t breathe—couldn’t hear, but the sound of leftover notes calming down from the strike.

Five seconds passed.

Ten seconds.

Her mother quietly bent down to straighten her bench back up. Then she sat down and put her hands back up to play.

One of the keys clanked; a string had been broken inside of the piano body, but Ms. Hope didn’t seem to notice. Her shoulders relaxed. It felt like when you take a step and find empty air where you expect floor to be. A jolt. Hands buzzing with leftover fear.

All the woman did was play.

Adora left the music room and tried to leave that moment behind her as well. It wasn’t the first time something like that happened, and she was prepared for it to happen again. Though, ‘prepared’ may not have been the best word for it.

Back in the study, Catra was laying on the couch playing on her Gameboy. Even just being in the same room as her felt infinitely better than anywhere else in the house.

Adora sat down on Catra’s stomach and pulled her knees up to her chest. _Why did mom look so angry at me? Like I really was worthless in her eyes?_ The woman had been horrible yes, and more so than ever, but the thought of those feelings of disdain being genuine tore her up.

“You’re crushing my delicate bones,” Catra wheezed dramatically. When she didn’t get anything back in response, she lifted her head. “…Is your mom okay?”

“Not really. But it’s fine.” Nothing was fine about it. In a perfect world, Adora could say this wasn’t a normal thing, but it was. She was used to the horrible feelings in her gut and the pounding in her head. She rolled off the couch and landed on the floor, facing upwards. “Let’s just stay in here, okay?”

In the study, far away from the eerie piano music that fills her nightmares.

Catra’s face appeared peering over the side of the couch. Her messy hair fell around it, nearly tickling her friend’s cheek. “‘Kay.” From that angle, her eyelashes looked so long and thick. At one point, Adora may have envied them. Now, she just liked looking at them and the way they framed Catra’s dark eyes. She knew something was going on. Of course.

This feeling was trying so hard to destroy Adora from the inside out.

“I don’t want to work with her when I’m older.” The thought of feeling like that for the rest of her life was terrifying. “I want to be free, Catra. She’s my mom, and I know I’m supposed to love her, but it’s hard.” Thinking as far back as she could, she could count on one hand how many times her mother had told her that she loved her and meant it.

Catra dangled her arm off the side of the couch. “You don’t _have_ to love her. She’s really mean to you.”

“But she’s my mom. She has control over everything in my entire life.” The past, the present, the future. Nothing belonged to her. “I don’t even know if she’ll let me go to Homecoming. You know…with you.”

“With me?” A weird, nervous laugh squeezed from Catra’s squished lungs. “What do you mean? We’re just going as friends, right?”

Out of all the three million feelings Adora battled with inside of her, that was one feeling she tried to avoid. The feeling that was turning her cheeks red right then.

Adora turned her gaze away from her best friend’s long eyelashes. “She wouldn’t want me to go to your Homecoming. I just wish…” God, her whole world was built on frustration. “I wish that I could choose what I want, you know? I hate feeling like she’s in control of my whole life.”

“We could run away?”

“No we can’t.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

Despite being no tears, there was such an ache inside of her. Like an anvil in her stomach, meant to pin her to the ground. She would boil herself away in those feelings, until something touched her.

It was Catra, who’d reached down and put a hand on the top of her head. It messed up the bump she’d done that morning, but the gesture was so sweet. So genuine. And her eyes were more gentle than she often saw them, pools of brown and green that glowed like moss under sunlight. Adora put her hand on top of Catra’s.

What would the world be like if everything was perfect? What would she be like?

Maybe she’d have a small house next to the forest, a quiet 9-5 job and a dog to walk twice a day. Maybe her and Catra could go to coffee shops and talk about the weather. Or they’d go on bike rides ever Sunday, even if it was raining. It would be okay if she got her clothes dirty and slept in her shoes and stayed up a little too late. Her and Catra could have cereal in the morning on Saturdays and…

She wanted that. Adora wanted that more than she ever thought she could want anything. She didn’t know what that kind of feeling was, but she felt a yearning deep inside.

And Catra was staring at her. It was like she wasn’t sure about what she was thinking either. Her mouth opened to say something, but—

“What is this?”

All thoughts of the future Adora had been enjoying just snapped back inside of her, like a rubber band wound too tight. She shot up off the floor, smacking Catra’s hand away from her face to find—

Ms. Hope stood in the doorway. They hadn’t even heard her footsteps; it was as though she’d appeared there like a ghost, staring dead-eyed into the room at the girls. The gaze was sharp enough to go directly through the wall behind Adora.

“What’s this?” she repeated.

Adora stood, nearly shaking from fear and guilt. Guilt of what, she wasn’t positive. It felt as though she’d been doing something wrong and caught in the act. “Mom,” she swallowed. “I was just—”

“Just _what_?” The way that she looked, Ms. Hope might’ve been an illusion. Her skin was so pale it was transparent, blue of her veins tracing spiderwebs across the skin. She stared at her daughter for just a second too long. Then blinked. “You girls should think about cleaning up. I’ll be starting dinner soon.”

For just one moment, the dead expression on Ms. Hope’s face changed. Something flickered, just briefly. Was it a smile? She was looking at Adora rather than through her. Even if was hardly for five seconds, it felt like longer than she’d looked at her in years.

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—that’s as long as it lasted. One blink and Ms. Hope’s eyes drained again. She took a deep breath in before turning and leaving.

A clock on the wall continued to keep time.

Inside of her, emotions continued to stew. Why did she feel such incredible guilt for wanting to get away? Her mother was sick. It couldn’t have been her fault. She was being selfish for wanting her own life.

“Adora?”

She looked next to her, where Catra was sitting upright on the couch. She looked worried.

“Sorry.” If Adora was trying to cover up stewing emotions, she knew she was failing. Her ears still burned from the thoughts of the future. “I, uh, don’t want to give Mom any more reason to hate you.” If Ms. Hope knew how badly she wanted to run away and live her life alone—

No. Live her life with Catra. Whatever that meant to her.

She had to tuck that far inside.

The following hour floated by. Not only was Adora used to either making her own dinner or eating ready-made food, she wasn’t used to her mother cooking. Ms. Hope was not the type of person to get her hands dirty chopping onions. All of the cookbooks they owned were for show, to give the illusion that they were a normal family.

Adora, Catra and Ms. Hope sitting at the same dining table felt like the exact opposite of normal. And the food was cooked horribly.

 _I just want this day to be over,_ Adora thought to herself. She wanted to sleep so she wouldn’t continue feeling the poison rolling around in her stomach. The mood was obvious to her best friend, who kept trying to discreetly get her attention.

Catra nudged Adora’s foot from under the table. Adora looked first in fear to her mother, who wasn’t paying attention, and then to her friend. Catra had a noodle strung across her upper lip like a mustache. God, she was stupid. But the way she tried so hard was…sweet. The side of Adora’s mouth lifted in a smile. Her life might be difficult, but she had Catra.

All the meanwhile, Ms. Hope wasn’t even touching the food she made. Her fork scraped against the plate in horrible noises, pushing noodles and sauce around. The noise might’ve suggested some of it was leaving the plate, but no. The woman just sat and stared blankly across to the opposite wall. She didn’t even look when half her meal slid onto the table.

Had she taken her medicine today?

The two girls finished their dinner long before Ms. Hope had ever taken her first bite. They sat there and silently wondered if they would be yelled at if they left. Fortunately not. Adora’s mom had begun breathing heavy, like she was ready to explode, but she just stood.

“Do the dishes, Adora.” Those were the only words she spoke before leaving the dining room.

All that was left was Adora and Catra looking at each other with confused expression for several seconds afterwards.

“Dishes it is.” Adora accepted her friend’s help in the task.

Together, they cleared the table and ran the sink. The stink of spaghetti sauce under hot water was gross but made the kitchen feel less sterile.

“Okay, so if you’re going to be my plus-one for Homecoming,” she squeezed out her sponge under the running water, “then we should have a color scheme, right?”

“Well that one’s easy.” The dishwasher door fell hard when Catra tugged it open. “Red. Obviously. Because you look great in it.”

For some reason, this made Adora’s cheeks burn. “Well you do, too. You wear it all the time.” The weird guilt was back, the type she’d felt earlier when her mom had come into the study. It made her feel…ugly on the inside. She looked away. “Whatever color you want.”

Ugly. Why did she feel like this? Dirty, almost. Not worthy to be happy. When she looked at Catra, she _felt_ happy. So did she even deserve having Catra in her life when it just seemed to make her mom angry?

“Hey dummy.” Catra flicked water at the other girl, startling her. “It doesn’t have to be red. I can wear a skin-tight catsuit for all I care.”

“That would be so bad.” For the first time in a bit, Adora actually laughed. “If you hadn’t been kicked out before, they would definitely kick you out if you did that.”

“I’ll hide it under a dress and rip the dress off once I’m inside.”

“Catra!” She was mortified at the thought and splashed some soapy water upwards like she was spraying a disobedient cat. “I don’t want my mom to murder you! If you did that—”

“What, she’d see you smile? She’d see her own daughter have fun?” Completely against the house rules, Catra hoisted herself up onto the kitchen counter. With her hair mussy and cheeks pink, this was Adora’s favorite way of seeing her. A little too brave for her own good. Despite the waves of self-consciousness, Adora allowed herself to grin.

She allowed herself to fall just a little bit in love—but she would never call it that. Her chest pounded. Her throat swelled with nervousness. Somehow, Catra hadn’t broken their eye contact that whole time, just observing and batting eyelashes mischievously. Did she know what Adora was feeling? Did she…feel it too?

Feel what, exactly?

Adora took her hands out of the sink to wipe them nervously on the front of her shirt. “…Catra, I-I don’t know—”

“Get out of my house.”

For the second time that day, both girls were startled into spinning around. Catra immediately jumped off of the counter, but it was too late. Ms. Hope was entering the kitchen, charging like a glass bull. Fragile, but absolutely terrifying.

Catra stepped in front of Adora, just in time for Ms. Hope to halt.

“I’m sorry,” the girl’s voice was small. She knew that apologizing was the best way to avoid Ms. Hope’s violence. “I shouldn’t have been on the counter, but—”

“ _I don’t want to hear what you have to say_.” Venom dripped from every word. Not a bull, but a snake. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Catra looked over to Adora briefly in confusion. “What do you--?”

“Slimy girl. You’re disgusting, influencing my legacy like that. I want you out of my house. _NOW_.”

As sharp as the words were, Ms. Hope took a moment to slink around them and open the medicine cabinet. She shook a few pills from an unmarked bottle into her hand before swallowing them dry.

Mostly out of fear she’d get hurt, Adora tugged on Catra’s arm. Maybe if they were to leave, her mother would forget she was mad. Maybe she’d leave them alone—

But no.

Ms. Hope stepped forward and took hold of her daughter’s wrist. The skin-to-skin contact reminded Adora of how cold and lifeless she’d become, a stark comparison to when she held Catra’s hands.

“You don’t get to go anywhere.” Now the woman was addressing her daughter. There was as much hatred as there always was. This time bore deeper, though. “You are too weak-spirited, Adora, letting her weasel her way into your mind.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Adora didn’t want to cry in front of her mother, but she was scared. “Don’t talk about Catra like that, she’s my best friend.”

“I was gracious once, but I will not make that mistake again. If I find you with her again there will be consequences. I won’t have your future ruined by someone like her.”

“She’s not ruining anything, Mom. You’re just mad because I’m not exactly like you.”

“Watch your tongue. I birthed you, child. I put a roof over your head and give you a future to be proud of, and you spit on that legacy. You’ve got a _destiny_ —”

“I don’t care about destiny.” A hot tear ran down the crook of Adora’s nose. She tugged weakly on her arm to get it back. There would be hell to pay for this. “Please, I don’t care. Let me go, I don’t want to be—”

 _SMACK_.

It was the sound of a cracking whip. Shock turned Adora’s vision black for a second.

When she opened her eyes, she saw her mother standing over her, a hand stuck in the follow-through position of a strike. She was breathing hard—they both were. Then followed the pain, her cheek swelling and getting so hot that tears automatically began to fall.

Shock of what happened froze her.

Horror of Catra witnessing it humiliated her.

Above all, there was nothing in the world to take it back.

“What was that for??” Stepping around her, Catra immediately swung her finger to point at Ms. Weaver. “How dare you hit Adora like that! How dare you lay a hand on your own daughter!”

This girl was small. At fourteen, she was barely over five feet tall and could’ve been blown away by a strong gust of wind. All of these traits should’ve added up to someone who was helpless, but the way that she stood her ground between Adora and her abusive mother made her as big as a mountain.

Ms. Hope looked like she could explode, like lava would pour from her eyes and ears. “Do not speak to me like that.” Her hand raised again, but—

Catra pushed her. Hard, in the stomach. There was not enough force to do damage, but it caused the woman to stumble backwards a few steps.

“You can’t call yourself a mother!” The words from Catra’s throat held more power than Adora had ever heard. She stood strong, spoke strong. _She_ was terrifying, too. “I don’t care that you’re rich. You don’t get to talk to my best friend like that, and you don’t get to hit her.”

“Catra, please,” Adora tugged on the sleeve of her best friend’s shirt. “ _Please_ , I just want to go.”

The other two people ignored her, despite the tears on her cheeks.

“I’ll have you shipped back to where you came from,” Ms. Hope snarled. “You’ve never deserved to step foot in this house, disrespectful brat.”

“We’re here legally!” If Catra hadn’t been mad before, she was downright livid. “You can’t bully people just because you’ve got money. You don’t deserve having Adora as a daughter, because she’s a thousand times better than you could ever be.”

All Adora wanted to do was to shrink, hide, disappear. In that moment, seeing the kind of rage between the two other people in the room, she didn’t feel grateful. There was no gratitude someone was sticking up for her, only the fear of retaliation in the future. She couldn’t see that. Her face hardly hurt, compared with the hurt inside of her. She continued shrinking back, and tugged again on Catra’s shirt. “Please. Let’s go, Catra.”

Still, they didn’t even look in her direction.

Ms. Hope took one more step towards Catra, but she didn’t get far. There was a yell.

Catra shoved the woman in her stomach again, this time harder. Ms. Hope went crashing into the counter, knocking her pill bottles over and spilling medication like hail to the linoleum. She’d let out the shriek of a wounded dog, but being so sickly, she struggled to get up. Her bony legs kicked from underneath her dressing gown.

It was…sad.

“Mom?” Adora whimpered, too scared to turn away but also too scared to approach. At that moment, she wasn’t even given the chance.

Between one second and the next, Catra had grabbed Adora’s hand and bolted. Bare feet pounding against tile, carpet, wooden deck of the porch and then grass. Off the property, into the woods.

Roots and moss and berries twisted underneath each pounding step. Splinters. Probably bugs.

As they ran, low branches sliced across their faces.

Nothing chased behind.

Nothing but the September air.

Only when they got to the Apostolos household did Adora break down. Her breathing grew sharp and deep, every cell in her body shaking, vision black. She couldn’t even feel the blankets beneath her from Catra’s bed.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” She could hardly even hear herself talking over the roaring in her ears. “You shouldn’t have talked to her like that.”

“It’s about time someone stood up to her. She’s been so horrible to you for so long!” There was a pride in Catra’s voice that the other girl hated to hear. There should be no pride in this.

“When I get back…” Dry hiccups replaced any tears Adora would’ve had, “it’s going to be ten times worse. It’s…going to be so bad, Catra.” She pressed her eyes against the sharp parts of her knees and curled into herself. Maybe if she curled tight enough, she’d disappear. “You don’t know how it’s like.”

“But she’s mean to you.” Catra’s pride began fading quickly. She knew the tone of her friend’s voice; she wasn’t dumb. “I couldn’t just stand by and watch her hit you. Adora, she hit you.”

“You should’ve just let her hit me. She’d forget about it in ten minutes. This… She won’t forget about it. She’ll never forgive us. Why…” Adora felt like she was running out of oxygen. “Why does she hate you so much? Why did she think you’re…influencing me? Why did that upset her?”

Judging by the silence, she knew Catra didn’t have an answer for her.

She didn’t care.

She just wanted to disappear and not have to deal with what the next day brought.

Adora wasn’t very conscious for the rest of the evening. She didn’t notice when Catra’s parents came to check on her, or when there was a mug of hot coco set on the nightstand. She didn’t hear the bedroom door opening. Honestly, she didn’t even notice she’d fallen asleep until opening her eyes the next morning.

Tears had dried overnight, causing Adora to pry them painfully apart when she woke.

Everything inside of her was numb, but she knew she should feel grateful for that. Better numb than scared, always. Looking to her left, she saw Catra dead asleep at the edge of the bed, slumped in a weird position with her neck bent. The way that she was laying suggested she’d fallen asleep propped up but fell over during the night. The rise and fall of her chest should’ve been comforting.

After a few minutes, she had to use the restroom, so she forced herself to shuffle out the door and across the hall.

Whispers from the kitchen at the end of the hallway only partly intrigued her. Mr. and Mrs. Apostolos were probably talking about her. _What kind of child talks back to her mother to deserve being slapped?_ Would they call the police on her mom?

She went to the bathroom and drank some water from the tap before going back to Catra’s room.

Time passed at an incomprehensible rate as she lay next to her sleeping friend. There was no way of telling if she was laying there for hours or minutes. She’d stopped counting her own heartbeats at ten, so that wasn’t helping.

Eventually, the door creaked open. A head poked in. It was Catra’s mom, short curly hair twisting up around her ears. They looked so similar.

She noticed that Adora was awake, and went to step farther in, but Adora rolled around to face away. She couldn’t deal with anyone right then. Not Catra, not her parents. Not even herself.

More time passed.

She didn’t get out of bed. She didn’t know if anyone tried retrieving her. Catra got up and some point and left. There were a few times she said things, but Adora didn’t know what was said, and she didn’t respond. The only thing that worked in getting her out of bed was when she got thirsty. The hot coco that had been on the nightstand was now gone, so she was forced to leave the room.

The air was stale. Maybe it was her mouth.

In the hallways, Adora accidentally ran into Catra’s father. “Adora?” he asked, using that expression Adora hated. Pity? Concern? She didn’t need any of it.

She just wanted to sleep.

Adora ignored Mr. Apostolos and just went into the restroom to drink more tap water from her hands. While in there, she heard some talking in Greek, and then a few English words.

“…Keep you two from school tomorrow,” the voice of Catra’s mother was saying. Presumably, she was talking to Catra. “Do you know if her school can be called on a Sunday?”

Catra’s answer was too quiet to hear.

In the bathroom mirror, there were a few things that Adora couldn’t help but notice. She saw pajamas that weren’t hers on her body. Did Catra change her last night? Perhaps it was all the mud from their run, or tearing of tree branches when they caught. Either way, she was in an unfamiliar gown that was a little too small on her.

The second thing she noticed was the mark on her cheek. If she were to place her hand over it at an angle, she could line her fingers up where her mother had struck her. It had welted, bruised so dark it looked like she had rubbed some pen ink off on her skin. There was no mistaking this. No avoiding it.

She couldn’t go to school, no.

Adora didn’t bother doing anything to it before going back to the bedroom. Instead of the bed, this time she crawled into the closet and curled up on an old backpack stored there. Maybe if she was in there, Catra wouldn’t find her to bother her. If no one bothered her, she could sleep.

So she closed her eyes.

_“If I find you with her again, there will be consequences.”_

Tighter, she tried closing them tighter.

_“You are too weak-spirited, Adora. Letting her weasel her way into your life.”_

Adora crossed her arms over her stomach, trying to avoid the nausea building up inside of her. “I’m not weak,” she told the darkness. “I just want to be free.” Was it so wrong to want happiness?

_“I put a roof over your head and give you a future to be proud of, and you spit on that legacy.”_

Her mother was just trying to give her a good future. That’s all. That’s all it was.

The next time anyone entered the room, they went directly to the closet. So much for trying to hide.

“Adora? You in there?” Catra’s careful voice came through the wooden sliding door, without her trying to open it. “Mom’s going to call your school to excuse you for tomorrow. I just want to let you know what’s going on, even if you don’t want to come out. I didn’t tell them that, um…that your mom hit you. I don’t know if you wanted me to tell.”

Adora wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Should she be grateful? If Catra’s parents knew, they’d call the police, but Ms. Hope was so influential in her community there was no way she’d get taken away from her child. That would make things a hundred times worse for Adora. Perhaps she was grateful, as sickening as it made her. Eventually, when she didn’t say anything, her friend left.

Time passed.

When someone came to her closet door next, it was an adult. Mrs. Apostolos, who always smelled like pepper and laundry detergent, opened the door. Even though Adora didn’t want to see her, she didn’t tell her to leave.

“Sweetheart,” the mother said quietly, “is there another phone number we can try to call your house? Your mom must give permission for you to be out of school, since I am not your guardian. I tried the one Catia has, but—”

“No.” Adora kept hiding her face so the bruise wasn’t visible. “We just have that one.”

“…Okay, well she’s not answering, baby. I will try again later. If you’d like to come out and talk about what tomorrow will look like, we’ll be ready.”

Mrs. Apostolos was a wonderful person. She was kind and loving and had so much energy to try and make the world around her a better place. Since Adora and Catra had been nearly joined at the hip since elementary school, Catra’s mom was more of a mom to her than her own. Right then, though, her warmth was a reminder that her own mother didn’t have the capacity to love like she did. When she left the bedroom, the warmth of her presence left too. It turned the air colder around Adora, colder than before.

She was surprised that her mom hadn’t answered the phone, but she was probably still upset about what had happened. That’s fine.

Everything had to be okay. It had to.

The alternative…Adora didn’t want to think about.

Eventually, she left the closet. There was no desire to interact, but her stomach rumbled and legs ached from being bent for so long. Walking cautiously through the house, Adora kept an ear out for any sounds of people. The living room was quiet. The home office was quiet. When she got to the kitchen, however, she found all three family members at the table.

When she came in, they all stopped talking and turned to look at her. Mr. and Mrs. Apostolos’s eyes went directly to the horrible bruise across the side of her face.

Resigned to this kind of unwanted attention, Adora shuffled in and took a seat at the fourth chair and rested her chin on her arms.

Catra’s dad said something to the others in Greek before turning to her. “Would you like something to eat, Adora?”

Adora nodded, still not looking up. It only took a minute for a sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk to be sat in front of her. She didn’t touch it, though.

This felt like some sort of intervention she’d see on TV, and it didn’t help her anxiety at all. With the concerned faces and hands laced so politely in front of them. It was all Adora could do not to run.

“So, I tried calling your mother,” Catra’s mom started with the same gentle tone. She waited until Adora looked up at her to continue. “She has not answered any of the times we’ve called. I don’t think it’s best for you to go to school tomorrow, so I’d like to go over and ask her directly.”

“Go to the house?” Adora’s heart slammed up into her throat immediately. The rush of adrenaline nearly knocked her backwards. “Don’t. Please don’t. She’s not in a good mood, she—”

“Calm down, angel.” When Ms. Apostolos took Adora’s hand and held it in hers, it made the pain in Adora’s heart turn to longing. For a loving parent. “Let us handle this. You don’t have to worry about anything right now, okay? _Bamp_ _ás_ is going to drive down and talk to her himself.”

If something happened there, and their family ended up being deported back to Greece, Adora could never ever forgive herself. Her mother had threatened too, and even though she didn’t understand all the ins and outs of immigration, she had to believe she had that much power in the community.

Catra, who’d been sitting silently next to her dad the whole time, spoke up. “I told them what she said to me,” she said, reading her best friend’s mind. “It’s okay, Adora. Nothing bad will happen.”

Nothing bad. Everything bad has happened to Adora, and she was so sick and tired of being scared. The anger inside of her stomach still hadn’t gone away, so it was difficult looking at her best friend. All that ran through her mind was the previous night. Maybe she would feel grateful to have someone in her corner someday. But not then. It just made everything worse.

She pulled some hair in front of the bad side of her face and said, “Okay. Thank you.”

After that was a waiting game. The sound of Mr. Apostolos’s car leaving the driveway marked the beginning of the end for that night, little to Adora’s knowledge. The only thing she had to do was sit and wait. Catra sat at the table across from her, trying to catch her eye. She’d touch their feet from under the table, something they did often for comfort. When that didn’t work, she would clear her throat, reach her hand across the table but then change her mind and pull it back.

Adora didn’t want her affection. She was scared of it. Something about the way her mother treated their relationship terrified her, like being friends with her was a bad thing. Like she shouldn’t want to be with her.

The awkward silence lasted a long time. Some time in the early afternoon, the phone hanging in the hallway rang. Mrs. Apostolos stood up to answer it. The house was small enough (and quiet enough) for Adora to hear bits and pieces, though some was in Greek.

 _“…not answering_?” she was saying. “ _Do you see her car?”_

Silence. Some hushed Greek.

“ _The gate was open, though, how…okay, yes…"_

More quiet. Adora looked up at Catra, who had her lips pursed. For the first time all day, they met each other’s eyes. The way that Catra’s eyes were wide and worried seemed to mirror her friend’s own internal concern. Something didn’t feel right. She looked away.

The click sound of Mrs. Apostolos’s landline hanging up came a minute later. However, she did not return to the kitchen. Footsteps lead away, presumably into her own bedroom, before the sound of a door closing.

Catra tried reaching her foot under the table for Adora. “Hey, are you—?”

“Don’t. Please, don’t. I don’t want to talk.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Not trusting what she’d say, Adora opted to keep quiet. There weren’t words on her tongue to describe her feelings right then.

The wait between calls was much longer that time.

When the phone rang Catra’s mom rushed to answer it. She didn’t speak any English that time, causing Adora’s anxiety about it rise instantly. She wanted to know what they were saying, but she also didn’t want to know. The call was much shorter that time. Before it was over, Catra stood.

“ _Mam_ _á_.” She immediately ran into the hallway, leaving the other girl alone. She, too, spoke only in her native language. What had she heard?

Adora understood nothing. She felt more alone than ever, but this loneliness didn’t feel right.

It didn’t feel right.

A stone sank into her gut. Burned down through the floor. _Something isn’t right._

“Adora, honey?”

She looked up to see Mrs. Apostolos standing in the doorway. The mother’s face was twisted, pale, and she held Catra close to her side with one arm. “Someone will be coming to the house shortly, okay? You need to have your things packed up.”

“What?” Nothing made sense _. Why did they look like that? Why did they look scared_? “What’s going on?”

She tried to stand from the chair, but her legs didn’t work. Her breaths came short and fast from her lungs, too. Why was her body not working? “What’s wrong? Who’s coming to the house?”

“A policem—”

“Why??”

From where she stood next to her mother in the doorway, Catra began shaking. She couldn’t look her friend in the eye, but a trail of tears clearly tracked down her face.

“Catra?”

Catra shook her head.

“What happened? What did your dad find?”

Stepping into the kitchen, Mrs. Apostolos guided her daughter to the nearest kitchen chair, right next to Adora. They didn’t sit, though. “A police officer will be here shortly. You need to have your belongings ready. They will take you—”

“Why can’t I stay?”

“I can’t tell you.” Her voice broke. “Get your toothbrush from the bathroom, too, okay?”

“Your mom is dead,” Catra blurted out, and smacked her hands over her own mouth. Tears flowed freely then.

The words.

She’s dead. Her mom. Adora didn’t understand them. They didn’t make sense.

Dead? She wasn’t.

She couldn’t be, they had just seen her.

“She’s not, she just fell.” Adora’s breathing got faster. Her vision grew white. “She just fell yesterday, she’s fine.”

Breathing in.

Breathing out.

Cold seeped up through her spine, through every vein in her body. “You pushed her.” Adora spoke without meaning to. The words just came. She snapped her eyes onto Catra. “You pushed her. That had to be in. You-you pushed her, and she fell, and now she’s—”

“That wasn’t it,” Mrs. Apostolos tried to explain, but her daughter interrupted.

“It’s not my fault, Adora!” Catra cried, throwing her hands up. “I didn’t mean to! She was yelling at you, and I wanted—”

“You’ve always hated her.”

“I was trying to protect—”

“You were making her mad all day yesterday.” Now Adora was yelling. She couldn’t tell if the burning on her face was from rage, grief, tears, or a mixture of everything. “She was angry at you, not me.”

“Adora—”

“If you hadn’t said those things…” She tripped off the kitchen chair, sobs ripping from her lungs, “If you hadn’t said those things, she’d be fine, she’d—”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“This is your fault!” Gathering every bit of her energy, Adora lunged towards her friend, knocking her down against her mother’s legs. And she bolted.

She ran.

Her legs shook, every inch of her body screaming, screams from her chest, screams from her throat. Maybe she was yelling for her mom, or maybe she was yelling just to try to feel something.

Anything.

Adora didn’t make it far. There were two police cars in the driveway, uniformed officers marching up the gravel. One of them caught Adora as she ran, sobbing. There was no fighting.

She couldn’t move. Eventually, the screaming stopped.

After that, her memories got fuzzy.

She couldn’t recall the car ride, nor the chatter over the police radio. The sirens.

They hadn’t taken her back to the house. Otherwise, she would’ve seen the ambulances, flashing lights, and the body collection unit.

Nothing was real for the following days. Exactly how many days, she wasn’t sure. Adora vaguely remembered case workers asking her questions, though she wasn’t sure if she answered any. They asked her if she wanted to see Catra, or Mr. and Mrs. Apostolos. She had screamed more.

The first real day she remembered was many weeks after the incident occurred. She’d been placed with a foster family, since she had no extended family to take her in. Music was playing on the TV. Classical. Strings. Violins and pianos.

She’d let herself cry, but the hole in her stomach remained. There wasn’t much to care about at that point, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at all. Especially not about herself. She’d seen some of the old news reports; of course, since Ms. Hope was so established in the musical community, her death was reported on. It was ruled a suicide caused by a mass overdose of pain medication. Not from being pushed to the ground by a wimpy 14-year-old.

Of course it wasn’t caused by that. It was her own mother’s illness. Nothing felt right.

Adora watched the morning from her new bedroom window. Grey colors of the sky reminded her of her mother’s skin that night. Cold. Numb.

And the snow fell.

__

__

__

** PRESENT **

ADORA’S POV

“You’re asking me if I hate you?” the question felt so silly on Adora’s tongue. She swallowed her mouthful of rice. Of all the things she’d expected the other girl to ask, this was something that hadn’t even occurred to her.

“Just answer the question.”

“Catra.” She set her chopsticks down. Their table was seated right next to one of the windows, and from there they could see the sky darkening from clouds. “I never hated you. But I made you feel like that, I know I did. I was horrible that day.”

Each memory at the back of Adora’s mind tasted like static. There was nothing she could do to take it back, and even though she knew that it wasn’t her fault, she still blamed herself. For everything.

“I didn’t want to see you.” It she could go back in time to change the way she handled the friendship, she would. “I ran because I didn’t…know how to apologize.” Adora’s voice got quiet. “I still don’t.” Just apologizing didn’t feel right. The word “sorry” didn’t seem like it would make a dent in the wall she’d built between them. “I blamed you, Catra. I told you it was your fault, and I _knew_ that it wasn’t.”

Adora didn’t want to cry in public, but reliving that weekend brought emotions back to the surface. Her throat burned.

“You meant everything to me. You were the most important person in my whole life, and I ruined that.”

Telling the truth lifted a bit of the weight that was on Adora’s shoulders. Even if it was a watered-down truth. Catra _was_ the only good thing she had in her life, but it went so much farther than that. She wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling, but she could feel it again there in the restaurant that day.

Catra didn’t look up for a few minutes, tapping the rim of her glass with a nail. “…I was angry for a long time,” she admitted eventually. “But I shouldn’t have been. And I’m not anymore.”

“Well, you don’t need to forgive me. You’ve got a life now, and I can’t be allowed to ruin it again.”

To that, Catra flicked her paper straw wrapper across the table, startling the other girl’s moping. “Don’t be stupid. I’m buying you food. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t care at least a little.”

That was true. She wasn’t the type of person to do something she genuinely didn’t want to, so she must actually want to be in Adora’s life again. For some reason. Her cellphone buzzed a few times, but she ignored it.

“Hey. You were the most important person in my life, too. That doesn’t just disappear.”

Does it? _Should_ it?

Adora pulled a napkin from its holder and turned to blow her nose. Her phone, which was face-down on the table, buzzed. She didn’t feel cute, or interesting, or even _sane_. There was no earthly reason for Catra to continue this discussion. “ _I_ disappeared. I left you.”

“You experienced a traumatic event, Adora.” Catra’s tone grew firmer. The expression was soft enough to make Adora meet her eyes, though. “And a childhood of abuse. Your mother—”

“She just wanted me to be strong.” Adora didn’t want to hate her mom anymore. She’d spent the last ten years trying to make peace of everything; being reminded of the abuse didn’t help.

“You were a _kid_ , Adora. You didn’t need to be strong. You needed to be safe.”

She looked away through the window, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Catra reach over to take her hand from across the table. “…You were that person I felt safe with. I could apologize a thousand times, Catra, but it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Would that make you feel better? Apologizing a thousand times?”

If suddenly holding Catra’s hand wasn’t shocking enough, she had to do a double-take. “What?” Maybe it was the silliness of the question, but Adora smiled incredulously. “Seriously? I mean, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“If that’s what would make you feel better, then sure. Every day if you have to. And I’ll forgive you every day.”

This felt like a gift to Adora. A promise of the future, and a future where Catra still wants to be a part of her life. Something this small made a huge difference in Adora’s mood, and though she didn’t feel like she deserved it yet… This was the chance to earn it back.

When the tears came back to her eyes, they were grateful. “Really?”

“Yes.”

A teary, disbelieving chuckle left Adora’s throat. Despite everything, Catra still could melt her heart. “Okay then. I’m sorry, Catra. For everything.” She meant it.

“I forgive you.” Catra scooted the food closer to Adora. “Now eat. It’s getting cold.”

When their hands let go, it was less lonely than before. Back before everything went wrong, their interactions would usually be goofy and weird. That was the way they worked. Somehow, Adora felt that same way then. The bizarre proposal, Catra being so nonchalant.

The other girl even continued eating like nothing happened. What was on her mind, she wondered?

For the fiftieth time that evening, Adora’s phone buzzed on the table. She finally decided to grab it and shove it away in her bag. Before it turned off, however, Glimmer and Bow’s names flashed on the screen. They had been told of this dinner meeting; they must be very curious to know how it’s going. There would probably be a lot of discussion.

“Wow,” Catra commented on the buzzing. “Your boyfriend is seriously obsessed with you.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Adora knew her face was turning red. “And I don’t date—” _men._ She was going to say men but stopped herself because the last thing she needed was to make this dinner more awkward. It wasn’t something she thought often about. Maybe it should be saved for a conversation for later.

The way that Catra raised her eyebrow seemed like she knew more than letting on. _Forget it_.

“What about you?”

The eyebrow raised higher.

“Dating. Anyone special?” _Oh my god, why did I ask her that._ Adora wanted to slam her head into the table and hopefully knock herself out to avoid the answer. “I mean, you don’t have to—”

“Nah.” There was resignation in the way Catra shook her head, but it was hard to read. Her body language wasn’t as clear to the other girl as it used to be. Her chopsticks poked the ginger slivers at the edge of her plate. “Not for a long time. No one wants to put up with my antics.”

 _I shouldn’t have asked her_. Adora kicked herself internally, but it was only made worse by the smirk that followed. Why did Catra treat is so calm? She probably wouldn’t if she knew that Adora had gotten that card with her confession of love on it when they were younger. It must not have been a big deal to Catra, she decided. A puppy love kind of thing.

The feeling in her chest made Adora nervous. She scoffed. “What antics? You’re practically perfect. Talented, funny, obviously beautiful.” She stopped. _Shut up shut up. Why do you make such a weirdo out of yourself??_ It was bad enough that she acted neurotic any time she had to talk to Catra. Now she seemed even more insane.

Catra looked down and then away out the window. Maybe it was the warm restaurant lighting, but her face looked red. “Well, I’ve traveled for a while. I haven’t stayed in one place for very long, so it makes it harder. I really don’t have time for anyone but myself and Melog.”

Bringing up this subject did make her think. This woman really did seem perfect, almost in a suspicious way. Hardly anyone was _that_ kind or _that_ forgiving, especially as a nationally recognized cellist and composer. Yet there she was in a hooded sweatshirt, struggling to use chopsticks and acting like nothing changed between them. Why?

“No one can deal with my impeccable charisma and charm anyways.” Catra didn’t look the other girl in her eye.

Adora tried not to stare. She saw the way that the other girl’s hair curled into messy twists around her freckled face, and the shape of her eyebrows always making her look more melancholy than real. Was it…jealousy that Adora felt? She had struggled with what happened to get where she was, and Catra was just _thriving_ , living her best life and nailing every part of it. The thought made her stomach twist a little. It made her feel…small.

“Don’t make that face,” Catra ordered. “And don’t think so highly of me. I’m a selfish person.”

_Selfish?_

The curve of her eyebrows deepened. “I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

For the first time that dinner, she wasn’t the one to break the silence. Neither of them spoke while continuing to eat, but Adora was considering all that it meant. This meeting nearly felt like a weird dream, one that she’d wake up from covered in sweat at three in the morning and couldn’t fall back asleep from.

She saw how Catra’s nonchalant attitude turned downwards, and this made her feel guilty for making everything about herself.

“I’m done talking about myself.” Adora accidentally spilled a drop of sauce on the table, and she dabbed with a napkin. “Now it’s your turn. That day was horrible for you, too. You had a loss just like I did. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” The answer came much too fast. “You had it worse than me. I can’t really say much.”

That answer, and the silence following, troubled Adora even more. She didn’t know how to respond, or it she even _should_. It was up to her.

“So, you asked me a question,” Adora mirrored her friend’s previous action and tapped their shoes together. “It’s my turn to ask you something.”

Catra raised her eyebrow, once again. The green of one eye was so vibrant, it was hypnotizing.

“I’m not asking this to be self-deprecating, I swear,” Adora started, “but what exactly do you have to gain in trying so hard? In reconnecting with me?” That came off _very_ self-deprecating, but she hoped that the other girl would understand the point of asking “I know that I haven’t made it easy. Be honest.”

Was that too much to ask?

People around them came and went. Dinner service was in full swing at the restaurant at that point. Even though it wasn’t hard to hear one another, the bustling in their peripherals added unnecessary stimulation. While she Adora was keeping her senses under control, Catra didn’t seem to care.

Her expression was hard and almost ashamed. “I’m not a good person, Adora. I’m not selfless. I’ve worked hard for what I have in life, but there are a few things I just _hate_ about myself. And you…” Catra fidgeted with the end of one of her curls. “This is going to sound dumb, but I feel like you’re the only person who can make me better. To _redeem_ me.”

“To redeem—? That doesn’t make any sense. You _are_ good.” The question took an unexpected turn. To say it was confusing was an understatement.

She must have noticed how confused Adora looked, because Catra smiled. It made her eyes lighten up. “When I first saw you—Well, maybe not right away. But in the library, and when I visited your class. I remembered how it felt back then to be around you. And I guess I wanted that again.”

_She wanted…?_

Adora couldn’t help it. Her mouth had fallen open out of surprise. Her heart…her chest expanded. Pressed against her throat. The taste that crept onto her tongue wasn’t of Korean food, but of sunshine. She remembered that feeling, too.

Almost immediately, Catra’s face turned redder and she crossed her arms. “That was so stupid. I can’t believe I just said that.” Her nose wrinkled, eyebrows furrowed in embarrassment. “You can just punch me in the face now.”

“No, no,” Adora reached out a hand, “it was sweet.”

“ _I’m not sweet!”_

She smiled. Laughed. It was genuine and real, bringing that sunshine out from her mouth onto her lips. Of course she remembered how it felt when they were together. Like nothing in the world could touch them as long as they had each other. The laugh turned Catra’s frown into a frustrated smile, too.

“Here.” Adora dug her phone back out from her bag, unlocked it, and slid it across the table. “Are you too selfish to share your phone number?”

Catra took it. “Once a dork, always a dork, huh?”

“Be quiet.”

After Catra typed in her number, Adora sent her a quick text to share her own. Now they were even.

That felt like a huge step, and she wasn’t sure if she would process it immediately. It was all happening so fast. Did she only see Catra in the orchestra two weeks ago? There was still the question of whether or not she could allow herself to be happy, but this was a start.

In a very timely way, their check was given to the table right after the texts were exchanged. They both slammed their hands onto the ticket, but Adora snatched it.

“I can’t just invite you to dinner and make you pay for it.” Catra held out her palm in a “gimme” motion. “Hand it over.”

“You’ll get the bill next time,” Adora made a show of putting her card into the slot, “and I’ll pick a more expensive place.”

“So there’s a next time?”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

She passed it off to the waitstaff and stood to gather her belongings from the chair next to her. Her bicycle helmet somehow got tangled in her bag strap, so it took a moment of stupidly juggling the two.

Catra just watched in amusement. “You’re seriously riding a bike home in this weather?”

“It wasn’t raining when I left.”

“What kind of person would I be if I just let you leave in a rainstorm?”

Outside, it was an absolute downpour. No one wanted to be walking around in it for even a second; people shuffled into buildings holding magazines over their heads. Riding a bike for three miles in that weather would be close enough to _swimming_ three miles. The thought was unpleasant at best.

“My bike is probably all muddy and wet,” Adora zipped up her jacket and tucked her ponytail into it. “You wouldn’t want that in your car.”

“I _definitely_ care about my car seats more than I do my friend. You’re right.”

 _Her friend_. She tried not to choke up. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

“Good.”

The waitstaff came back, returned Adora’s card, and they headed out.

Immediately, rain soaked their hair and shoulders. It wasn’t the type to water your flowers, but to drown your entire garden and flood the basement. Every dip in the driveway created a puddle, so Adora and Catra had to navigate the pools like ninjas. They ended up getting soaked anyways trying to wrestle the bike into the car trunk.

“Alright Princess.” Catra let out a _brr_ and cranked her heater on. “Where am I taking you?”

“Just take the highway west. I’ll tell you what exit you need to be on when we get there.”

“Coolio.”

Riding in the car together wasn’t as weird as it was last time. Some of the two instances were similar, like the beating rain. Adora took out her ponytail and ran her hands through the damp hair, trying to let the heat dry it. _I must look like a wreck_ , she thought. Her face was probably all blotched from trying not to cry several times during dinner, hair gross, clothes wrinkled. What must Catra think of her?

If Catra had thoughts, she wasn’t sharing them. Her eyes trained diligently on the road ahead, hands at the bottom of the steering wheel. During this time, Adora let herself observe some of the little things, like how Catra’s nails were short and chipped with black paint. Or how she picked at the frays in her jeans, making Adora think maybe they weren’t always that frayed to begin with. It made her feel so grateful, because this meant she was allowed to re-learn everything about her.

“What are you smiling about?” Catra asked, peeking over.

“I’m smiling?” _Idiot._ “I don’t mean to be. I’m not really looking forward to going home to all the unanswered emails from my online class.”

“Gross. I’m grateful to only be doing in-person this year.”

“Will that change next year do you think? Take this next exit.”

“I don’t know yet. I’d have to take on a different class, and music is hard to teach online.” Catra took the exit the other girl told her to, which took them down a less populated road. “We’re not too far from my place, too. Have you tried the pizza place behind Yamaha’s?”

“Not yet.” Adora frowned at the thought of trying pizza from anywhere “behind” anything. “Go ahead and turned left at the next light. In the other lane.”

“Coincidence after coincidence.” The click of the blinker was too similar to a metronome. Catra paused stopped at the red light. “Next, you’re going to tell me that you’re the one drawing genitalia in my driveway with chalk.”

They snort.

Adora had her pass a roundabout before they slipped into the residential city outskirts.

“Hey.”

She was looking out the window, watching the way the trees shook under the weight of the storm. “Hm?”

“Tell me to drive left.”

She looked over, confused for a moment. “Yeah, left—” A pause. Double-take. “Don’t tell me.”

“I swear to god, Adora.”

“Why do you know this area? Why are you laughing?”

Catra didn’t respond. She took the car, weaving in the storm, and drove right past Adora’s house. Adora pointed but didn’t get the chance to say anything. The other girl had pulled into a house’s driveway that was diagonal to hers, close enough to throw a stone at the window. The car idled.

“You passed my place,” Adora pointed behind them, but the observation was stupid. She knew where they must be.

The house in front of them was about the same size as her own, wood-paneled siding and curtains drawn over the windows. In the largest window to the left of the front porch, a cat napped behind the curtain. Its tail tapped against the window absently.

A raspberry blew from Catra’s mouth, but she didn’t say anything. What was she thinking about?

A few seconds later, Adora ended up clearing her throat. “You know, I can just walk from here.”

“No, that’s dumb.” The car was put in reverse and they drove the opposite way 100 feet to Adora’s house. Put into park again.

They sat there.

“Your garden is dying.”

“Thank you.”

Catra started laughing again, but this time was more of a disbelieving, almost exhausted laugh. “Of course we’re neighbors. _Of course_. It’s not a bad thing, don’t look at me like that.” She shook her head at Adora and smiled. The chip in her front tooth was visible. “It’s just funny. Being coworkers, now neighbors. I don’t believe much in fate, but this is uncanny.”

 _Neighbors._ Adora furrowed her brows. So all this time she was spending wandering her house complaining about the mess, Catra could’ve been just a walk away? She could’ve gone to visit her?? Sure, she’d only lived there for a few months, but so had Catra. “Uncanny” was putting it lightly.

“The cat I saw in my back yard was Melog, wasn’t it?” She turned back to look at Catra’s house and saw the sleeping dot in the window.

“Probably. He’s a stinker.”

“Okay.” _Would this change the expectation between them?_ Adora worried, as usual, but chose to force it behind her. She gathered her stuff. “Do you…want to come in at all?” Maybe that was a strange thing to offer, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about it yet. Maybe she shouldn’t have offered.

Catra took the hint. “No. You’ve got your online class, and I’ve got to get ready for tomorrow. I’ll see you around though?” When she caught Adora’s eyes, she smiled again. This time it wasn’t joking or teasing, but the smile reached up to her eyes. It was genuine.

So Adora smiled back, hoping the other girl could see that she was genuine, too. “See you around. Tell Melog I said hi.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Catch you later, Princess.”

She hopped out of the car into the rain. It poured across her coat and trickled down her back, but she let herself feel it. The cold and the wind and everything. She must have looked insane, not even trying to go inside for the first several seconds, but Catra had already seen her insanity. The sound of the car pulling out of the driveway was muted from the storm, but she didn’t watch; it wasn’t going far.

Adora had apologized. A thousand times she’d relived that day when everything went wrong. Each thought was a nail pounded into her bones, denting and cracking to a point she thought was irreversible. She felt permanently damaged from what happened, like she’d be better off if she just forgot everything—including Catra. Hearing the words “I forgive you” meant more to her than she ever imagined. It didn’t cure the feelings, but it was a start.

Maybe she would be able to move forward.

Maybe eventually, she could even forgive herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps I relive my own trauma through writing, but who knows?  
> Catra and Adora are finally getting closer! They remember what it was like to love.  
> Thanks for reading!! Hopefully the next one comes sooner than this one!


End file.
